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AN ORATION 



ON 



DANIEL WEBSTER 



EY 



ALPHONSO TAFT 



AN ORATION 



ON 



THE LIFE AND PUBLIC SERVICES 



OF 



DANIEL WEBSTER, 



DELIYEREI) DECEMBER 18, 1852, 



Tlpoii request of the Citizens of Cincinnati, 



BY ALPHONSO TAFT 



CINCINNATI: 

PRINTED BY THE CINCINNATI GAZETTE COMPANY. 

18 5 3. 



PeabodyInst.,Balto. 
Jan. -23 



El'34o 



CORRESPONDENCE. 



Cincinnati, December 24, 1852. 
Alphonso Taft, Esq, 

Dear Sir : — The undersigned, Committee of Arrangements, rep- 
resenting their fellow citizens of Cincinnati, respectfully request, for publication, 
a copy of the able and eloquent Oration, delivered by you, on the 18th instant, 
upon the Life and Public Services of Daniel Webster. 

Respectfully yours, 

NATHANIEL WRIGHT, 
P. B. MANCHESTER, 
JOHN D. CALDWELL, 
OSGOOD MUSSEY, 
STEPHEN MOLITOR, 
CHARLES S. POMEROY, 
C. P. NORTON, 
JOHN L. MINER, 
GEORGE CRAWFORD, 
JOHN W. HARTWELL, 
CHARLES F. SCHMIDT. 

To Alphonso Taft, Esq. 



Cincinnati, December 24, 1852. 
Gentlemen : — Agreeably to your request, I herewith submit, for publication, a 
copy of my Oration upon the Life and Public Services of Daniel Webster. I am 
gratified to know that you regard it as worthy of being preserved, and read. 
Yours, very respectfully, 

ALPHONSO TAFT. 

To Nathaniel Wright, and others. 



ORATION. 



On the 24th of October 1852, the spmt of Daniel 
Webster, which, for forty years, had exerted a high and 
controlHug influence among men, took its fhght from our 
world. How sad — how sorrowful — to know, that that 
mighty mind, so long the pride and glory of our age and 
country, and that heroic heart, which had so often stood 
against the assaults of foes, and against the frowns of 
friends, has been withdrawn from earth forever ! In the 
full maturity of his intellect, before his powers had given 
evidence of decay, while holding a post of the highest 
trust and honor under the present administration of our 
Government, his career has suddenly drawn to a close. 

The public mind was not prepared for this event. So 
long had the people of this country been accustomed to 
look to him for opinions on public affairs, and so often 
found him able to speak, in perilous national emergences, 
the great word that gave guidance and deliverance to the 
nation ; so steadily had the light of his great intellect 
burned without flickering, and with increasing brilliancy, 
that they felt sure of his life, for many years to come- 
Calhoun had died, — but his declining health had prepared 
the public to expect his departure. Clay had died, — but 
Ms strength had yielded to advancing age, and his demise 
was not unexpected. 



6 

But Webster is no more ! That clear and command- 
ing voice will pour forth no more eloquence ! That 
majestic form, that colossal head, those dark and solemn 
eyes, those expressive lips, that God-like presence, we 
shall see no more ! And we are now assembled, a por- 
tion of the citizens of the West, to share with the citi- 
zens of the North, and the South, and the East, in 
doing honor to his memory. These funeral honors can- 
not add to his fame, nor affect his present state of ex- 
istence. He is beyond the reach of our praise, or our 
censure. But to us, and to those who are to come after 
us, they may be useful. 

The fame of her illustrious benefactors, is among the 
richest treasures of a nation, and as such is to be cher- 
ished by the living generations of mo>n. What were an- 
cient Greece, or Rome, in the hght of history, without the 
renown of her heroes and statesmen, her poets and ora- 
tors ? What were England herself, without the recorded 
fame of her distinguished sons ? And vJiat can our own 
country hope to be, if she fail to treasure up, for the 
benefit of the present, and coming generations, the memo- 
ries of her departed patriots, and orators, and statesmen, 
and scholars. It is not, therefore, so much to exalt his 
character, that we are assembled, as to elevate our own, 
by lifting our eyes to behold that gi'eat example, illustra- 
ted by a long and luminous career, which is now finished 
by his death, and placed high in the heavens, to be seen 
and admired by all men — like the bow that gilds the clouds, 
and overarches the firmament. 

When a public benefactor dies, it is right that the living 
pause in their labors, to review his career, and contribute 
their willing aid to perpetuate his virtues and his virtu- 
ous deeds. 



Of every great man, there is much that is not mortal- 
His famous achievments, his recorded thoughts, and his 
great example, live after him, in the memories of men, 
and in history. Our Washington yet lives, by his exalted 
character and illustrious deeds, which have fdled the 
earth with his renown, and conferred substantial honor 
and respectability upon his country. He lives, and will 
live, in the enthusiastic veneration and regard of every 
American ; while his great example will never cease to 
instruct and to bless us, and all generations of American 
citizens. All the distinguished Revolutionary patriots 
who, though dead, yet speak to us by their courageous ex- 
ample, will ever live, in the traditions and in the history 
of their country. Still more fortunate are they, who, 
with thoughts truly valuable, have been able to clothe 
them in language so attractive, as to be read, not only by 
their contemporaries, but by all posterity. 

The thoughts of a great man thus preserved, triumph 
over death and the grave, and render him more intimate- 
ly known to posterity, than could his personal presence? 
if he were permitted to rise from the grave, and meet 
them fjice to flice. 

In entering upon the duty of pronouncing the eulogy 
of Mr. Webster, it is impossible to forget, that Clay and 
Calhoun, who for more than thirty years, have divided 
with him, the admiration and applause of the American 
people, have but recently preceded him to the tomb. 
Webster is the last of the three immortal names, that 
have long stood on the American roll of fame, so higli 
that the interval between them and all the other distin- 
guished men of their time and country, has been wide 
and well defined. They rose above all their contempora- 



8 



ries early in life, and retained their pre-eminence undis- 
puted, to the end of it. 

England had her Pitt, and Fox, and Burke, who gain- 
ed a like ascendency, and maintained it for twenty years. 
Justly proud is old England, of their fame ; and ever 
cherished, is the memory of their deeds, their characters, 
and their contests ; and she would suffer her navy to be 
sunk, or any other disaster to befall her, as soon as she 
would suffer the character and achievments of either of 
these great men, to be blotted from her history. In 
later times, she has had her Wellington, who has also 
now gone down to his grave. The Duke was not 
born to die. His name belongs to his country ; and no 
treasures of silver or gold, could tempt her to forget the 
hero of Waterloo. 

Clay, Calhoun, and Webster belong to the historical 
period, immediately succeeding that of the Revolutionary 
heroes. That period has fcirnished many instances of 
men who live in the memories of this, and will live in the 
memories of all succeeding generations of men, by their 
high services. 

Jackson, the younger Adams, Harrison, Taylor, Mar- 
shall, Story, Woodbury, Silas Wright, with a host of 
others who have gone before Clay, Calhoun, and Web- 
ster, have taken their places in the American firma- 
ment, with Washington, the elder Adams, Jefferson, 
Madison, Hamilton, and the other fixed stars of the con- 
stellation of Revolutionary patriots and heroes. 

A country that can lose a Clay and a Webster in one 
year, and that has buried an Adams and a Jefferson in one 
day, will not be pronounced, by the civilized world, barren 
of genius, or unproductive of great and good men. 



When Mr. Webster first took his place in Congress, as 
a Representative from Now Hampshire, in ISI^, Mr. 
Clay had been several years in the conncils of the nation, 
and Mr. Calhoun had already served one term in Con- 
gi'ess. Calhoun and Webster were of the same age, be- 
ing both born in 1782. Clay was five years their senior. 
Since that thirteenth Congress, these three have been 
marked men. Although Mr. Webster, after four years of 
service in Congress, retired to private life, and pursued 
his professional practice for seven years, and was conse- 
quently less before the public, yet he had already taken 
his rank among men, along side of Clay and Calhoun ; 
and after his return to Congress in 1823, they three have 
had no rivals but themselves. Each has in turn shown 
himself equal to any position under the Government. 

They have shone ahke, in the halls of legislation, and 
in the Cabinet ; and the influence of each of them has 
been constantly felt throughout the country, to the day 
of his death. 

They have, each, towered high above the incumbents of 
the Presidential office, for a quarter for a century, in the 
qualifications which are supposed to fit men for that posi- 
tion. They have, each of them, contributed largely to the 
making of other men Presidents. They have, each of 
them, aspired to the Presidency themselves; but neither 
of them has attained to that honor, and but one of them, 
has ever received the nomination of either of the great 
political parties of the country. 

Mr. Clay was the champion of the West. None ever 
excelled him in the elements of character, which make 
a man personally influential and popular, in a republican 
Government. Bold, enterprising, of a surpassing elo- 



10 

quence, with a voice of the richest melody, of prodigious 
compass, and ever obedient to his will, — he was endowed 
with a towering genius, as well as a lofty ambition. 

His style of oratory was clear, persuasive, and impas- 
sioned, copious and felicitous in language, and enriched 
with the ripe fruits of experience in public affairs. He 
was singularly dextrous and happy, in all the arts of par- 
liamentary debates. He was a man of undoubted patri- 
otism, and of elevated and liberal statesmanship. He was 
a man of national, and not of local views. He was truly 
an American. He wrote with clearness, elegance, and 
force ; and his diplomatic correspondence, when Secretary 
of State, under Mr. Adams' administration, would do 
honor to any government of any country. He was known 
to be a man of high honor and great gallantry, possessing 
the rare combination of a bold and imperious temper, with 
political sagacity and practical wisdom. His early educa- 
tion was such, as a poor boy, of true genius, with an in- 
satiable thirst for knowledge, and an unconquerable am- 
bition, in a free country, may obtain. Such opportunities 
as occured, he improved. " Times and seasons happen to 
all men," but few there are who improve them as did Henry 
Clay. On coming to his majority, he was admitted to the 
bar at Lexington, Kentucky, in 1797 — practised law with 
the most brilliant success — at once became a favorite with 
the people; — in 1803, had a seat in the Kentucky Legis- 
lature, and stood foremost among the first; in 180G, was 
elected to the Senate of the United States, to fill a 
vacancy for one year, where he at once took a high rank, 
and after fresh services in the State Legislature, was 
elected to fill another vacancy in the United States Senate, 
commencing in 1809. On the expiration of that term, 



11 

in 1811, he was elected to the House of lleprcsentativcs, 
of which he was chosen speaker, the first day he took liis 
seat in it; which position he continued to hokl, till in 
1814, he was sent as one of the Commissioners to nego- 
tiate the treaty of Ghent. Without attempting to follow 
him through his long and illustrious career, it must 
suffice for the present occasion, to say — of his great deeds, 
are they not written in the book of tlie record of his 
country, there to be known and read of ;dl men. 

Mr. Calhoun was the champion of the South. He 
came into Congress in the year 1811, having already dis- 
tinguished himself in the Legislature of South Carolina. 
Mr. Calhoun was endowed with great and original intel- 
lectual power, and had the advantages of a thorough edu- 
cation. He thought, with clearness and precision, and 
expressed his thoughts, with masterly eloquence. His 
style was remarkable for its condensation and force. Of a 
high and unbending character, with an energy and activi- 
ty that yielded to no opposition or discouragement, he 
was too much under the influence of principle, and the 
deductions of his powerful logic, to follow implicitly any 
party. His career in Congress commenced and long con- 
tinued, with the most liberal and national views. He was 
in the Cabinet of Mr. Monroe, and was Vice President 
under both John Quincy Adams and General Jackson. 
Later in hfe, he became impressed with the idea, that the 
General Government bore with unjust severity upon the 
South. He became seriously concerned for the relative 
political strength of the South, and this concern had a 
powerful influence upon his destiny. On the two subjects 
of the tariff and slavery, local influences, at length, gained 
a controlling influence over him. But he was undoubtedly 



12 



sincere in liis opinions. He gave the strongest evidence 
of his sincerity, when he abandoned the fair prospect, 
which lay before him, of the Presidency, for his favorite 
doctrines, resigning the high position he held, as Vice 
President, in a popular administration, and placing him- 
self in a hopeless minority. The doctrines of Nullification 
and Secession resulted from his opinions on the high tariff ; 
and the doctrine of Disunion, from his opinions on the 
question of Slavery in the Territories, and on the general 
idea of a balance of power, between the North and the 
South. 

He regarded the South, as the weaker section of the 
nation, and liable to be oppressed by the action of the 
General Government, under the influence of the superior 
weight of the Free States, and dependent for its safety, on 
the preservation of the accustomed equilibrium of political 
power in the Senate of the United States. 

On entering Congress, Mr. Calhoun had at once as- 
sumed a rank of extraordinary elevation and influence^ 
and rose rapidly to the summit of fame as a parliamentary 
debater and statesman. In logical power, he was the supe- 
rior of Mr. Clay, and the equal of Mr, Webster. His career 
was in length equal to that of Mr. Webster, and of trans- 
cendent brilliancy. He differed from Mr. Clay more than 
from Mr. Webster, in his style of composition and oratory. 
With less of ornament derived from the imagination than 
Webster, he had the same compact logic. His speeches 
were all earnest and eloquent. Without going far for 
illustrations, his figures of rhetoric, and all his language? 
were felicitous and captivating. He was in every sense a 
truly great man. He was peculiar and original. We 
shall not see his like again. 



13 



On the whole, while Mr. Calhoun was more sectional in 
his opinions, than Mr. Clay or Mr. Webster ; he was per- 
haps less a partizan, than either. Neither he, nor Web. 
ster, however, could follow the behests of party with mucli 
alacrity, where their own well reasoned judgment and 
conscience did not go decidedly with them. Their con- 
duct was very much controlled by principle, and the older 
they became, the more difficulty they found, in submitting 
to the dictation of party. This was a prominent reason, 
why neither of them was nominated for the Presidency, 
for which they were both so eminently qualified, and to 
which they both ardently aspired. Mr. Clay, on the other 
hand, while he took no sectional views, but comprehended 
the entire country in his policy, was a strict adherent to 
party organization, over which his promptness, energy^ 
and genius gave him a decided control. 

Such were Mr. Webster's two great contemporaries, 
who have for near forty years been associated with him in 
the minds of mankind, and who with him have contributed 
to the intellectual illumination of this western hemisphere. 
God forbid, that one laurel should ever be plucked from 
the head of either of these, his great rivals ; or that the 
dust of detraction and envy should ever be allowed to soil 
the splendor of their fame. In death, as in life, they all 
belong to their country ; and their renown can no more 
be spared, now that they are dead, than their services 
could be dispensed with, while they were living. W^ebster 
needs not the disparagement of any of his contemporaries. 
In his life-time, he was too magnanimous to accept such 
service from others, and his lofty spirit would spurn such 
service now. I would gladly avoid all comparisons, which 
might cause sensations not entirely pleasant to the friends 



14 



of either of these illustrious characters. I am conteni 
with Webster as he was ; and will consent to borrow no 
man's laurels, to adorn his brow. 

Daniel Webster, was the son of Ebenezer Webster and 
Abigail Eastman, and was born in that part of Salisbury 
New Hampshire, now known as Franklin, on the 18tb 
day of January, A. D. 1782, in the last year of the Revo- 
lutionary War. 

Ebenezer Webster, was a native of New Hampshire, 
and is said to have been of Scotch descent. He was ; 
large, erect, athletic man, with only such education as h( 
acquired by himself, after having served out his appren- 
ticeship to a farmer, who neglected to give him any op- 
portunity at all, for school instruction. He was a good 
man ; loved his family, and his conntry ; was laboriout 
and exemplary, and shunned none of the hardships and 
and dangers incident to a border life, in the times of the 
French, and Revolutionary wars. He was a ranger, ir 
the old French war, fighting under the British flag, against 
the French, till the peace of 17G3, rising from a commor- 
soldier, to the rank of a captain. 

When the troubles arose between England and tht 
American colonies, Captain Webster, with all his kindred, 
espoused the cause of the colonies, with burning zeal. 
He had the courage of a lion. " He commanded a com- 
pany, at the battle of Bennington, under General Stark. 
He was also at the battles of White Plains and Rhode 
Island. On the night after Arnold deserted, at West 
Point, Captain Webster was made officer of the guard oi 
Washington himself, who calling him into his tent, and 
pledging him a glass of wine, said : " If I can't trusi 
you. Captain Webster, I can't trust any man." 



15 



After the war, Ebenezer Webster was elected to the 
bench, and remained a Judge for many years, and until 
his death, universally respected, both as a man and a 
Judge. 

Ebenezer Webster's second wife, Abigal Ea Iman, was 
a woman of superior mind, and possessed a force of char- 
acter, which was felt throughout the circle in which she 
moved. Proud of her two boys, Ezekiol and Daniel, and 
ambitious that they should excel, she breathed into their 
youthful breasts, aspirations, which "grew with their growth 
and strengthened with their strength," till, from the 
humblest condition, and the most unpromising and limited 
prospects, they were raised by merit, to the first rank of 
men, with prospects as wide as their country. No small 
part of their success in life, was to be ascribed to the 
elevated hopes, and early promptings, of that "excellent 
mother." They received from her, both instruction and 
rigorous discipline. 

Aside from his mother's teachings, Daniel's opportuni- 
ties for instraction were only such as were afforded by the 
ordinary District or Common Schools, of that early day, 
in the newer parts of New England. Imperfect, however, 
as those schools were, a wilHng and vigorous mind could 
make respectable progress in them ; especially, when there 
was a fond and capable mother, at home, to aid and en- 
courage him. It was, undoubtedly, the progress made by 
the boy at home, and in those Primary Common Schools, 
which awakened, in the mind of the father, the idea of 
giving him better opportunities. 

When he was fourteen years of age, his fiither took him 
to Phillips Academy at Exeter, an institution of great and 
continued usefulness, from that day to the present. Here, 



16 



he found himself in the midst of incitements to study, 
with greater facihties for learning, than he had ever be- 
fore known or imagined. The boys of our days, who 
have been tenderly raised, and gone leisurely to school 
from childhood, without any of the drudgery of labor, 
can have no conception of the avidity with which young 
Daniel Webster, who had spent the most of his days 
since his childhood, at hard work on the farm, now devour- 
ed the lessons that were set for him. He made rapid 
progess ; but he was a modest boy, and found it quite 
impossible to perform the exercise of declamation. He 
committed to memory many pieces, but when his name 
was actually called, he was paralyzed and could not rise 
from his seat. This circumstance, Mr. Webster related 
of himself in after life. How long it was, or how far he 
had advanced in his studies, before he could summon 
sufficient assurance, to speak in the presence of his in- 
structors and his fellows, does not appear. That he did, 
however, somehow overcome that infirmity, the world 
has had good reason to know. 

His going to Exeter, seems to have been designed, 
as a preparation, not for college, but for school keep- 
ing, in the winter seasons. He had not then aspired 
to a college education ; he did not suppose it possible 
for his father to incur so heavy an expense. Col- 
lege privileges were, in those days, reserved for here 
and there one, whose circumstances were pecuHarly 
fortunate. In the first place, the father must be wealthy, 
according to their primitive ideas of wealth ; and 
in the next place, the boy must be elected, out of the 
family, where there were more boys than one, for so high 
a promotion. That more than one bo}^, out of any one 



family, should be seat to college, was a contingency not 
to be thought of. Here was Daniel, one of ten children 
with quite a number of brothers, and a father wlio had 
not been in school a day in his life, and who was under 
the necessity of working hard to support his family. The 
chance of his obtaining so great, so unconmion a privilege, 
seemed to him so small, that he had never entertained 
the idea for a moment. But that father, who had keenly 
felt the want of an education lumself, and who had in 
him a heart, large enough for a whole race of princes, de- 
termined to do something for his boy, Daniel, who had 
shown so much aptitude to learn. 

After a few months' residence at Exeter, his father 
came for him, and on their way home the subject of his 
going to college was first mentioned to Daniel, by his 
flither. The many anxious conferences, which had taken 
place between the father and the mother on this great 
question, deliberating how they should be able to meet 
this large expense, with their narrow means, history has 
not preserved. Mr. Webster says, in an autobiographical 
memorandum of his boyhood: 

" I remember the very hill we were ascending, through 
deep snows, in a New England sleigh, when my father 
made known this purpose to me. 1 could not speak. 
How could he, I thought, with so large a family and in such 
narrow circumstances, think of incurring so great an ex- 
pense for me. A warm glow ran over me, and I laid my 
head on my father's shoulder, and wept." 

How deeply did he feel the importance of the propo- 
sition of his flither ! He saw, that it would open to him? 
the way to a new and more elevated sphere of action. 
One great, if not the great element of success in his case, 



18 



was his thorough appreciation of a liberal education, as 
well as of the cost and difficulty of obtaining it. If some 
ingenious instructor of youth could discover a process of 
intellectual discipline, by which young gentlemen could 
be made to appreciate the privileges of a liberal educa- 
tion, without being poor, he would be entitled to higher 
honor, and a richer reward, than was he, who invented the 
steam engine. The privileges of a classical and scientific 
education, are lightly esteemed by those whose parents 
are able, without inconvenience, to send them to college. 
The difficulties in the way of attaining an object, wonder- 
fully enhance its value. There is no reasoning, like 
poverty, to convince the student of the importance of an 
education, which costs money. Necessity, which is so ex- 
cellent a mother of invention, is also an admirable en- 
forcer of truth upon the minds of the young. Daniel;, who 
had heretofore worked hard upon his father's farm, needed 
no argument on the subject, to satisfy him that an edu- 
cation was the greatest blessing that could be conferred 
upon him in this world ; because it opened the way to 
every thing on earth that looked to him desirable, — that 
he would be successful, was, therefore, just as certain, as 
that his life and health should be spared, while he strag- 
gled for the prize. 

In one year he was prepared for college, and admitted 
at Dartmouth, where he remained the full term of four 
years, devoting himself faithfully and successfully to his 
studies. The long winter vacations, however, were devo- 
ted to teaching, to eke out the means of paying his ex- 
penses. Indolent students can find no encouragement in 
his college course. As an evidence of the estimation, in 
which he was held at Dartmouth, it is sufficient to men- 



19 

tion, that, in his Junior year, he, and not a Senior, was 
selected to deliver the Fourth of Jidy Oration, and it was 
thought worthy of being printed in a pamphlet. This 
performance shows that the spirit of Seventy-six had made 
a strong impression on his mind ; — that the scenes and 
sentiments of the Revolution were fomiliar to him, and 
that patriotism had an early growth in his heart. The 
style of the piece was clear and animated, — in some 
parts of it, a little florid, — and would, perhaps, better 
please those of his critics, who have denied him the 
possession of imagination, than his later, and more ma- 
ture productions. 

In the meantime, he had interceded with his lather, 
for his elder brother, Ezekiel's education, and besides 
teaching in winters, during his college course, con- 
tinued the business of teaching, after graduatinir, for one 
year, — paying his board by recording deeds, — that at the 
end of the year he might carry home his unbroken salary 
of $350, to be applied mainly to the education of his 
brother Ezekiel. In 1801, he graduated, with distinguish- 
ed honor ; and after the one year's service, as a teacher, 
and three years' study of the law, was admitted to the bar 
in 1805, as a young man of decided promise. To be 
near his father, who had become old and infirm, he opened 
an office in the neighboring village of Boscawen. But 
his design was to settle ultimately in Portsmouth, the 
principal commercial point in the State. In 1806, his 
father died, not, however, till he had heard Daniel argue 
one cause, and saw with a fond father's delight, the evi- 
dent signs of coming success. 

In 1807, Mr. Webster moved to Portsmouth, leaving 
his office at Boscawen, to his brother Ezekiel. Nine years 



20 



he remained in Portsmouth, with a leading practice at the 
bar, becoming well known though out the State, and also 
in Massachusetts. It was a fortunate circumstance for 
him, that the bar in New Hampshire, numbered at that 
time, Jeremiah Mason, as one of its members, as well as 
other very eminent men, and that Samuel Dexter, and 
Joseph Story, of Massachusetts, names well-known to 
fame, practised in the courts of that State. But his early 
contests were chiefly with Mr. Mason, a lawyer of the 
highest eminence and talents. lie was Mr. Webster's 
senior by many years, bat was in the meridian of life, at 
that time. No young lawyer ever had a more vigorous 
course of discipline than Daniel Webster received, at the 
hands of Jeremiah Mason ; and what is alike creditable 
to both, they remained warm and generous friends, through 
all their professional contests. Here Mr. Webster laid the 
foundation of his reputation as a lawyer, which soon 
placed him at the head of the profession in the State 
where he resided. 

In 1812, he first consented to be a candidate for office, 
and was elected to Congress, and took his seat at the 
extra session, in May, 1813. The war with England 
was then waged, and raging. His course was thoroughly 
patriotic, notwithstanding his party connections. He 
seconded no refusal of supplies, nor any fiictious opposition 
to the administration. He urged the increase of the navy, 
and opposed a bank whose paper was not to be converti- 
ble into specie. Many persons who have long regarded 
Mr. Webster's public character with fiwor, and even with 
admiration, j^et, suppose that in the inexperience of early 
life, and in the heat of party excitement, during the last 
war with England, his Congressional course was not such 



21 

as to commend itsclt" to the lavor oi' a patriotic people. 
But, there is nothing in the history of that period of liis 
life, that need to give his friends concern, or that c;.n 
give his enemies joy. It was a trying time, for one not 
belonging to the dominant party. His constituents were 
deeply interested in navigation and commerce on the 
ocean, and taking counsel from their interest, they liad 
opposed as unnecessary, the declaration of war, which in- 
volved the destmction and loss of their property. But 
political life had had no charms for Mr. Webster up to 
that time. In 1813, he entered Congress fresh from the 
bar. 

How he could have gone through those exciting, and, 
to politicians, perilous times, and escaped all participation 
in the Hartford Convention, and the political heresies of 
New England, which proved to be so fatally unpopular, has 
puzzled his adversaries, who have often had occasion to 
cast about for something to say, against the Achilles of 
the North. 

In the year 1838, a great debate arose in the Senate 
of the United States, upon the Sub-Treasury, in which 
Mr. Clay, Mr. Calhoun, and Mr. Webster, bore the lead- 
ing parts, and which was sometimes called the battb of 
the liiants. In the excitement of the contest, the dis- 
cussion ran far beyond the immediate question before 
them, and became more personal than was usual with 
either of these great debaters. Mr. Calhoun " carried the 
war into Africa," in the Congressional phrase of the time, 
and, among other topics, hinted that he might attack Mr. 
Webster with effect, for his course during the " late war," 
as the last war with England was then called. lh\ Web- 
ster said in reply, " Sir, I am glad this subject has been 



22 

alluded to, in a manner which justifies me in taking pub- 
lic notice of it, because I am well aware, that for ten 
years past, infinite pains has been taken to find something 
in the range of these topics, which might create prejudice 
against me in the country. The journals have all been 
pored over, and the reports ransacked, and scraps of para- 
graphs, and half sentences have been collected, fraudu- 
lently put together, and then made to flare out, as if 
there had been some discovery. But all this failed. The 
next resort was to supposed con-espondence. My letters 
were sought for, to learn if, in the confidence of private 
friendship, I had ever said any thing which an enemy 
could make use of With this view, the vicinity of my 
former residence has been searched, as with a lighted 
candle. New Hampshire has been explored from the 
mouth of the Merrimack to the White Hills. In one 
instance, a gentleman had left the State, gone five hundred 
miles off, and died. His papers were examined : a letter 
was found, and I have understood it was brought to 
Washington. A conclave was held to consider it, and the 
result was, if there was nothing else against Mr. Web- 
ster, the matter had better be let alone. Sir, I hope to 
make every body of that opinion, who brings against me 
a charge of want of patriotism. Errors of opinion may 
be found, doubtless, on many subjects ; but as conduct 
flows from the feelings which animate the heart, I know 
that no act of my life has had its origin in the want of 
ardent love of country." 

. After reviewing the part he took in Congress during 
the war, and triumphantly defending his course, he closed 
that portion of his speech in the following words : " So 
much, sir, for the war, and for my conduct and opinions 



23 

as connected with it, and, as T do not mean to recnr to 
this subject often, nor ever, unless indispensably neces- 
sary, I repeat the demand for any charge, any accusation, 
any allegation whatever, that throws me l)ehind the hon- 
orable gentleman, or behind any other man, in honor, in 
fidelity, in devoted love to that country in which 1 was 
born, which has honored me, and which I serve ; I, who 
seldom deal in defiance, now, here, in my place, boldly 
defy the honorable member to put his insinuation in the 
form of a charge, and to support that charge by any 
proof whatever." 

Mr. Calhoun made no further allusion to the last war. 
It is to be remembered, that this occurred in the Senate 
of the United States, in the presence of several, who had 
been fellow members with him, of the thirteenth Congress? 
and witnesses of his whole conduct in Congress, during 
the war; and if anything could have been brought forward, 
it would have been done, by others, if not by Mr- Calhoun. 
It is undoubtedly true, that, though generally regarded 
as one of the Federal party of that day, then, as in later 
times, he avoided all the excesses, and many of the errors 
of his party. 

In 181G, after four years' service in Congress, at the 
age of thirty-four years, he removed his residence to Bos- 
ton, Massachusetts, where he devoted himself seven years 
to his profession. During this time, many and great 
causes were argued and tried by him, and so distinguished 
did he become, that some causes became celebrated be- 
cause he appeared in them. In 1818, he argued the 
Dartmouth College case, before the Supreme Court of the 
United States. This College had been founded by Dr. 
Wheelock, on private funds, under a royal charter, before 



24 



the Revolution. The Legislature of New Hampshire en- 
acted a law to place the institution under a new Board of 
Trustees or Directors, changing the government, and to 
some extent the character of the institution. The old 
Board did not consent to this, and disputed the validity 
of these acts, on the ground that the old charter was a 
contract, and the Legislature was prohibited by the Con- 
stitution, to impair its obligation. The highest Court of 
New Hampshire sustained the new acts of the Legisla- 
ture, against the old Board of Trustees. Great excite- 
ment arose on the subject in New Hampshire, and great 
consternation among the friends of the College, and, also, 
among the friends of like institutions. 

The question whether all eleemosynary and educational 
corporations, were to be subject to the changing Avill of 
political legislatures, and to be thrown into the vortex of 
party excitement, was vital to their stability and useful- 
ness. Mr. Webster felt more than an ordinary interest 
in the result of it. It was the case of his own alma mater, 
who had witnessed the first budding of his genius. The 
question was then new under our Constitution. It is said 
that before hearing the argument. Judge Story, having 
looked over the papers of the case, remarked, that he did 
not see that there was anything in it. Mr. Webster, 
made the opening argument, and before he had finished 
the court was convinced, and the law established. Judge 
Marshall declared it the best argument he had ever heard, 
and Judge Story often referred to, und spoke of it, with 
enthusiasm. This was Mr. Webster's first appearance in 
that high tribunal, and perhaps, he never appeared in it 
to better advantage. Here, began his great work of ex- 
pounding the Constitution of the United States, 



25 

It was his fortune, afterwards, to argue many causes of 
great national importance, before the higliest legal tribu- 
nal of the country, involving the construction of the Con- 
stitution ; and by his arguments, to contribute largely to 
the formation of those judicial opinions, which have illus- 
trated and expounded that sacred instrument. But his 
supremacy in the forum has not been questioned, for a 
great many years, and it is only necessary to remark, that 
his professional labors ran on, parallel with his labors as a 
Legislator and Diplomatist, and that his achievements at 
the bar alone, were sufficient to fill up the measure of the 
feme of the greatest lawyers the world has known. But 
here we must take leave of him as a lawyer, without men- 
tioning many celebrated causes, in which his genius illus- 
trated and contributed to the estabUshment of important 
principles of constitutional law. 

In 1823, Mr. Webster was again elected to Congress' 
His former experience in Congress had satisfied his am- 
bition in that direction, and he was exceedingly adverse 
to abandoning his lucrative practice for the unquiet life 
of a political man. He said in his speech on his reception 
in Boston, in July last : " It is now, gentlemen, thirty 
years since I came to this city of Boston. In my early 
manhood, I had had some, but not much experience in 
political affairs, I had left the world of politics, I thought 
forever, and I came here to pursue my profession, to earn 
my living, and maintain and educate my children." " It 
was enough for me, and fulfilled all my expectations in 
life, that I should be able moderately to provide for my 
own necessities, by my professional labors, and enjoy the 
pleasures of the intellectual and agreeable society of the 
town of Boston." 



26 

" But no man knows his own destiny, — at least I did 
not know mine. As I was sitting in my office, poring 
over Mansfield and Blackstone, in the year 1823, in the 
month of October, there came a committee to me. They 
did not look like clients ; I did not believe they had any 
law suits ; Thomas H. Perkins was chairman ; another of 
the members is now living — Mr. Wm. Sturgis, — and they 
stood up straight in my presence. I threw down my law 
books, and they said : ' Sir, we have come to tell you 
your destiny ; you must give up these law books. We 
come to tell you that on Monday next, you will be chosen 
to represent the city of Boston, in the Congress of the 
United States. We come to make no request, we come 
to enter into no discussion, we take no answer.' Col. Per- 
kins made a graceful bow, and with his committee went 
off." 

The strife of party was not congenial to Mr. Webster's 
nature. During the seven years of his retirement from 
political life, the storm of party had passed by. Mr. 
Monroe had served out his first term of the Presidential 
office, and had been elected for the second, without oppo- 
sition. All parties were dissolved in the general confi- 
dence which was accorded to the administration. The 
names of Federalist, and Republican, were no longer heard. 
If " some prejudices remained longer than their causes, 
as the waves lash the shore for a time after the storm 
has subsided," — " the tendency of all political elements 
was to repose." It was probably this calm state of the 
political ocean, which reconciled Mr. Webster again to em- 
bark upon it. Since that election, his hfe has been a 
public one, — devoted to his country. 

Among the first efforts which signalized his return to 



27 

Congress, was the introduction of a resolution, — " that 
provivsion ought to be made by law, for defraying the ex- 
pense incident to the employment of an agent or com- 
missioner to Greece, whenever the President shall deem 
it expedient to make such appointment." 

The object of this resolution, was to encourage the 
brave Greeks, to maintain their cause against the Turks 
with the assurance, that their independence would be ac- 
knowledged without delay, Avhen they had fought their 
way to freedom. He made an elaborate speech. His re- 
collections of classic Greece warmed his imagination in 
the cause of modern Greece. He felt, also, that America 
had an interest in their cause. 

After the overthrow of Napoleon, the monarchs of 
Russia, Prussia, and Austria formed what was commonly 
called, " the Holy Alliance," by which, after sundry un- 
meaning generalities, with which to blind the public, they 
proclaim the doctrine, that no change ought to be made 
in governments, or laws, which does not emanate from 
those, " whom God had made responsible for power ; and 
engage to assist each other to suppress rebellion and rev- 
olution, and claiming that the powers have an undoubted 
right to take a hostile attitude in regard to those states 
in which the overthrow of the government may operate as 
an example. " These sovereigns had also cast oppro- 
bium upon the cause of Greece, fearing the example of her 
success, far more than sympathizing with her suflerings, 
under the bloody tyranny of her Turkish masters. Scio, 
peopled with 130,000 of the most civiUzed and refined 
of the Greeks, had been burnt, and nearly all the unof- 
fending inhabitants slaughtered in a single day, and the 
remnant of the people of that devoted island, who es- 



28 

caped the sword, had been sold into distant and hopeless 
bondage. Yet, these christian sovereigns did not hesi- 
tate to countenance the Turk, and frown upon the Greek. 
Mr. Webster was of opinion, that popular liberty was 
a subject interesting to America, and that she had as good 
a right to encourage, as the European monarchs had to 
discourage a heroic people, struggling against fearful odds, 
for political independence. The kings had claimed the 
right to interfere by force, to defeat the progress of pop- 
ular liberty, — a claim justified by no law of nations ; and 
Mr. Webster contended, that we had a perfect right, and 
that it was our duty, at least, to make manifest our sym- 
pathy for the oppressed, in their struggles to be free. 

The object of sending the agent or commissioner, pro- 
vided for by the resolution, was to enquire into the true 
condition of the contest, in order that our government 
might welcome the new republic into the ftimily of nations, 
the instant she became entitled to that honor. Into this 
cause, Mr. Webster poured his whole soul, at the same 
time enlightening the discussion with much political in- 
formation and learning. Mr. Clay came to his assistance 
and made an eloquent speech for the resolution. But 
Mr. Handolph and many others took the opposite ground, 
and the resolution was lost. The discussion, however 
was published, and was useful to liberty, and served to 
encourage the suflering Greeks, though far away, in the 
midst of their perils of war, to hope for friendly counten- 
ance from the great American Republic. 

When Hungary was fighting to maintain the banner 
of freedom against Austria, our Government sent Dudley 
Mann, an agent, on a like mission of inquiry, which was 
made the subject of complaint by Chevalier Hulsemann, 



29 

n the part of Austria : — and in liis answer to that comr 
plaint, Mr. Webster, then Secretary of State, had an op- 
portunity to re-assert and maintain his own views on the 
subject. How the chevalier was answered, is not unknown 
in Europe, or in America. 

The next great subject of debate, which arose after his 
return to Congress, was the Tariff, upon which, his course 
has been often and severely censured. But it is probable 
that most of this censure has originated in a want of a 
just comprehension of his views, and in a want of proper 
knowledge of the circumstances of the case. It is said 
that his course upon the tariff has been inconsistent. Up 
to 1824, and in the session of 1824, Mr. Webster opposed, 
— strenuously opposed, — the levying of a high tariff for 
protection. In the session of 1824, he made a great 
speech against the bill, then brought forward, enacting 
very high duties for the protection of American manu- 
factures, amounting to absolute prohibition of the foreign 
articles, in many cases. His speech has been often 
quoted. It was an argument of the Taritf Question, 
upon the principles of political economy, and has been 
regarded, by not a few, as unanswerable. Mr. Clay was 
then Speaker of the House, but took a leading part in 
the discussion of the bill, making one of his greatest ef- 
forts in its favor. 

After much discussion and deliberation, the bill was 
passed, and thereby the policy of the government was 
supposed to be settled. Domestic manufactures were, 
thenceforth, to receive the patronage of the government, 
by liigh duties upon foreign manaliictures ; — high enough 
to give a decided advantage to the home manutacturer, if 
not amounting to an :disolute prohibition of tlie foreign 



30 

article. Mr. Webster led New England in her opposition 
to the adoption, by the General Government, of this 
pohcy. He did not oppose a moderate encouragement, 
to domestic manufactures, by such a just discrimination 
in the laying of duties, as should keep up healthful com- 
petition. That policy had existed from the foundation of 
the government, and at that time, had no opponents. 
Bat, the act of 1824, advanced a long way beyond, and 
established a new policy, — the high protective policy. It 
proposed to change, and did change, the investments 
of capital ; it proposed to rear up, and did rear up, im- 
mense manufacturing establishments, founded upon the 
stability of that policy. 

In 1828, when it was found that the law, by unforeseen 
cu'cumstances, worked a particular hardship to one class 
of manufacturers, and failed of its object, an amendatory 
act was introduced, and Mr. Webster, although greatly 
disapproving of many things in the bill, voted for it, for 
the justice it gave to that class. 

When the capital of the country had, upon the invita- 
tion, and under the encouragement of the government, 
assumed the form of domestic manuflictures, and when 
the industry of the country had adjusted itself to the pohcy 
and laws of the land, — a policy not sought by it, but 
forced upon it, by the National Legislature, and it was 
then proposed, by the Compromise act of 1833, to level 
the tariff to a perfect horizontal, excluding all discrimina- 
tion, he opposed the proposition. 

In 1828, he voted to amend the act of 1824, which 
had been found to operate unjustly in one particular ; and 
in 1833, he opposed the abandonment of the principle of 
discrimination, contained in the Compromise act. 



31 

Whoever shall take the trouble to review all his pro- 
ductions, relating to the tarifl', will find, that Mr. Web- 
ster's opinions were the result of an inteUigent theory, 
founded upon much reading, and an extensive analysis 
of facts. He deprecated violent changes in the laws, that 
affected the modes of employment, and the profits, of labor 
and capital. He deprecated the immense sacrifices of prop- 
erty, and the ruin to whole classes of industrious individu- 
als, that were the inevitable result of fickle legislation, on 
the part of the government, upon these vast interests. 
He did not regard it as so important, after all, what was 
the policy of the government on the subject of the tariff, 
as that, that policy should be known, and permanent. In 
all this, he may have been \vrong. But who, of all his 
accusers, have been able to show us more practical, and 
better doctrines, than are contained in his speeches and 
writings, upon this difficult and complicated subject ? 

But it is impossible to notice all the prominent occa- 
sions, on which his great parliamentary efforts were put 
forth. His speeches in the convention of Massachusetts 
for forming a new constitution ; his speech upon the 
Panama mission, which was intended to carry into prac- 
tical operation, the declaration of President Monroe, in 
his message of 1823, that we should consider any attempt 
on the part of the European powers to extend their sys- 
tem of interference with independent nations, on the 
principles of "the Holy Alliance," to any portion of the 
Western Hemisphere, as dangerous to our peace and safe- 
ty; — his eloquent, zealous, and successful effort for the 
rewarding of the Revolutionary soldiers in their old age 
with pensions, which seemed to flow as much from the 
heart as from the head; his powerful discussions of ques- 



32 

tions relating to the currency, and commercial exchanges, 
and the finances of the country, including his speech 
against the bank of 1815, and that upon his own resolu- 
tions in 1816, requiring the revenue to be paid in the legal 
currency of the United States, by which a sound circulating 
medium was restored to the country, as well as numerous 
more recent productions on the subject; his report on 
the apportionment of representation, the principle of 
which, though it did not then prevail, was afterward adopt- 
ed by law; his speeches on the Presidential veto, and on 
the removal of the deposits; his speech on the Presiden- 
tial protest, which is a masterly exposition of the Con- 
stitutional limitations upon executive power ; his speech 
on the appointing and removing power of the President, 
which, also, casts a strong light upon that part of the 
Constitution; his speech upon slavery and the slave-trade, 
in the District of Columbia; his speech on the Louisville 
canal, in which he urged the most liberal policy toward 
the West, placing that important improvement upon the 
same ground, with the improvement of the "harbors, piers, 
and breakwaters on the sea coast;" his speech on the 
right of pre-emption to actual settlers on the public lands, 
in which he diftered from jMr. Clay and the Whig party, 
and advocated that right, upon the principle, that the 
government Treasury ought not to be enriched by depriving 
the settlers of their improvements, but ought to be con- 
tent with the fair value of their lands ; his speeches upon 
the Sub-Treasury, in the great contest with Mr. Calhoun 
in 1838 ; with a great many other of his distinguished 
parliamentary eflbrts ; — every one of which has embalm- 
ed some great truth, affecting the welfare of our country, 
in language that is destined to live forever in the memo- 



13 



ries of mankind, and to exert as high an influence upon 
the future generations of his countrymen, as they have 
exerted upon his contemporaries; — all these monuments of 
his genius, and of his ardent love of country, we must 
pass by. The extent of his productions transcends the 
scope of an occasion like the present. 

Mr. Webster's style of composition, was suited to the 
expression of important thought. It was so clear as to 
be transparent. He could not be misunderstood, without 
great prejudice, or great want of honesty, on the part of 
those who heard, or read, or criticised him. Without be- 
ing ambitious of ornament, he was always tasteful and 
classic, always interesting, always suggestive of thought, 
always maldng progress. 

He was entirely free from what most writers of our 
time, and of all times, have a great deal of, a constant 
straining after effect, by sounding words, and brilliant 
figures. With an imagination stronger than most men, 
and a lively fancy, by which he could, at will, invoke to 
his aid all forms of comparison and figurative illustration, 
he used them in a manner so happy and judicious, as to 
give pleasure to the imagination of the reader, and inform 
his understanding, and convince his reason, at one and 
the same time ; and so chastened and tasteful, as not to 
detract, in any manner, fi'om the clearness and simplicity 
of his discourse. 

Many persons, who were accustomed to admk'e high 
sounding phrases, and extravagant comparisons, have sup- 
posed that his style was wholly destitute of ornament. 
An amusing instance of this kind of estimate of Mr. 
Webster's style was told by himself, in the latter years of 
his life, after his writings had become acknowledged 
5 



34 

models of English composition. Before he had become 
so widely known, he had, as chairman of a committee of 
Congress, carefully prepared a report, to be read before 
the House. On reading it over to the Committee, for 
their approval, one member, who was a man of conse- 
quence in his part of the country, remarked that he 
found no fault with the matter of the report, but would 
remind Mr. Webster, that the subject had excited a good 
deal of attention, in the country, and the report would 
be extensively read, and it seemed to him, that more 
pains should be taken with the style of it. The report 
was carefully read over again, when the committee man, 
with a good deal of kindness, said, he supposed it would 
have to do ; he would not object to its being reported to 
the House, but, in candor, would remark to Mr. Webster, 
that, for an educated man, he had the poorest style of any 
person he had ever known. From some recent criticisms," 
we might infer, that this distinguished Congressman was 
not more self-complacent, nor more mistaken in his esti- 
mate of Mr. Webster's style of composition, than some 
who profess to be critics now-a-days, have been, both in 
their estimate of the man, and of his works. 

But, simple as was his style, it was not unadorned. 
His thoughts, always happy, and well conceived, were 
embodied in the most felicitous words to be found in the 
language for the purpose, and every production was en- 
riched witli tasteful and pertinent illustrations, beautiful 
conceptions, drawn from the natural world, — classical al- 
lusions, void of pedantry, but graceful, — historical allu- 
sions, — comparisons, — antitheses, and, in short, every 
variety of rhetorical figure was employed with exquisite 
taste ; — all which, hke so many diamonds, and precious 



35 



stones, added beauty and richness to the orighial thought 
— the pure gold, in which they were set. 

He touched nothing which he did not adorn. It is 
probable, that no man of modern times, has given more 
care and thought, to the perfection of his style of ex- 
pression, whether written, or spoken, than Mr. Webster. 
He used to say, that "there was a great deal in scratch- 
ing out." He once said to a friend, that " he had been 
all his hfe trying to get rid of words." He Avas familiar 
with our English and American classic authors, as well 
as with our English and American history. He was 
familiar, also, with the best of the ancient classics. All 
these sources were made tributary to the perfection of his 
style of composition, by a mind, which, I verily believe 
has had no superior in ancient or modern times. 

Quotations, — and those only from standard works, — 
were sparingly used by him, and never, unless they were 
so peculiarly appropriate, as to adorn his own thought, 
and delight his hearer. To say, that he was destitute of 
historical knowledge, as has been recently done, by some 
one, since his death, — whose principal object seemed to 
be, to say something different from all others, — is an ab- 
surdity too gross to be entitled to any respect. All his 
speeches, and all his public addresses, contained happy 
historical allusions, and illustrations, which gave a ripe- 
ness, that distinguished them from the productions of 
nearly all the orators and statesmen of the age. 

In a long and eventful career of public life, Mr. 
Webster has encountered many occasions of great diffi- 
culty and responsibility, putting to severe proof, both his 
firmness and his patriotism. Of these, T propose to notice 
three instances, which have arrested public attention, and 



36 



have awakened a warmth of applause, and a severity of 
censure, altogether beyond what falls to the lot of com- 
mon men. 

The first instance, was his conflict with Gen. Havne 
of South Carolina, in 1830, in the Senate of the United 
States, upon Mr. Foote's resolution, relating to the public 
lands. The resolution itself, which was made the occasion 
of that famous debate, was of no importance. General 
Jackson had just been elected President, by an over- 
whelming majority. Mr. Adams' administration had 
gone out of power, unpopular, and New England, which 
had given him a zealous support, was visited with an ex- 
traordinary amount of odium. Mr. Adams was a New 
England man ! He was not popular, and his administra- 
tion was regarded as a New England administration. The 
canvass had been bitter and unsparing, and even the tri- 
umph of victory did not seem to mollify the asperity 
of the parties. Mr. Clay had, with Mr. Adams, been 
driven from the public councils. It seemed to be a set- 
tled design, that the North should answer for all the sins 
she had ever committed, or been charged with, and the 
friends of the last administration, who had survived the 
overthrow of Mr. Adams, should be pubHcly arraigned, 
tried, condemned, and executed. 

Mr. Foote's resolution was the first opportunity, which 
presented itself for the attack. Mr. Benton commenced 
it, and was followed by others, of whom Gen. Hayne was 
by far the most prominent and formidable. The Western 
and Southern friends of the administration made com- 
mon cause against the obnoxious East. The blows were 
aimed mainly at the head of Mr. Webster, as an Eastern 
man, and the most prominent friend of the last adminis- 



37 

tration still in Congress ; and he was looked to, for an 
answer, if, haply, any answer could be given. 

General Jackson's administration was then new and 
popular, and the attack upon the North had such a zealous 
concurrence of some of General Jackson's friends, and 
was so determined, and overbearing, and able, that it pro- 
duced a painful depression, amounting to consternation, 
in the mindsof the friends of the former administration. 
Expectation was all against them — they had been beaten 
at the polls — their policy condemned by the people, and 
they were regarded as doomed men. 

But what added immensely to the interest of the oc- 
casion was, that Hayne and his friends, then for the first 
time, brought into the Senate of the United States, the 
fully declared doctrines of Nullification. This was vastly 
more important, than all the party and sectional bearings, 
which had been given to the debate. The South were 
peaceably to nullify the tarift' laws of Congress, as " dan- 
gerous, deliberate, and palpable violations of the Con- 
stitution." 

Of the result of that debate, but little need be said. 
The world knows it by heart. The North was defended, 
and justified. The tide of abuse, which had been, for 
many days rising against her, Avas rolled back upon the 
heads of those who had contributed to swell that tide. 
Nullification was met, comprehended, and overthrown, 
forever. Claiming to be a peaceable remedy under the 
constitution, it was, then and there, shown by an argument 
of absolute demonstration, to be rebellion and revolution 
against the constitution. When that day's sun Avent 
down, the great Southern doctrine of Nullification was at 
an end. The plausible logic of those who brought it into 



Q 



8 



being, could not again revive it. That great speech, 
justly entitled Mr. Webster to the appellation of the 
" Defender of the Constitution." The speech, itself, pos- 
sessed all the varied merit of the renowned speech of 
Demosthenes for the Crown. It abounds in incident, in 
retort, in oratorical wit, in classic allusions, in happy com- 
parisons, and illustrations ; in historical reminiscences, 
in clear statement, and in the most sublime bursts of pa- 
triotic eloquence, as well as in unerring and unanswerable 
logic. 

The men of the North, who had been so long oppressed 
with chagrin and mortification, lifted up their drooping 
heads, and stood erect again, and walked proudly down 
the Pennsylvania avenue. The North was again respect- 
able. No mortal, ever before or since, so bore the whole 
North, with all her institutions, upon his own broad 
shoulders, as did Daniel Webster, on that glorious day. 
No other debate of our times, has left so lasting an im- 
pression on the minds of men. 

The doctrines of Nullification and Secession were again 
argued by Mr. Calhoun and Mr. Webster in 1833, with 
more deliberate preparation, and with, perhaps, even 
greater display of ability. But the impression on the 
popular mhid was not so thrilling. The victory had al- 
ready been decided. Nullification had been condemned ; 
and Secession, which was but another name for the same 
thing, shared the same fate; General Jackson had declared 
against it, and the. country was safe. The Nullifiers had 
been effectually severed from the administration. 

What would have been the result, if there had been 
no such demonstration of the true and dangerous charac- 
ter of their doctrines, on that occasion, it is impossible 



39 

now to determine. With the powerful advocacy of Gen. 
eral liayne, and the still more powerful support of Mr. 
Calhoun, and the general favor, which, it at first received 
from many friends of the administration, if it had not been 
met by a demonstration of its danger and absurdity, with 
an energy and an eloquence, which carried that demon- 
stration home to all hearts. General Jackson might pos- 
sibly have been deluded, as were some of his most promi- 
nent followers, mto a toleration, or even a passive sup- 
port, of the Carolina doctrines. These doctrines were 
not well understood, and the source from which they 
emanated, was then influential and popular. 

Another trying occasion in the career of Mr. Webster, 
occurred after the death of Gen. Harrison, while he was 
a member of Mr. Tyler's cabinet. In 1841, Gen. Har- 
rison and the Whig party came into power, and Mr. Web- 
ster became Secretary of State. He was then, fifty-nine 
years of age. A new field was now opened to him. For, 
although he had been sufficiently prominent in 1824, to 
have entitled him to a place in the cabinet of John 
Quincy Adams, this was his first executive appointment. 
The foreign relations of the country were, at that time, 
involved in great difficulty, and doubt. Several great 
questions were pending between the British and Ameri- 
can governments, — old questions that had become more 
and more annoying, and which more and more threatened 
a rupture between these powerful nations. For fifty- 
eight years, — ever since the treaty of peace, of 1783, 
the north-eastern boundary of the United States had 
been unsettled, and for most of that time, had been the 
subject of serious controversy, — baffling the diplomacy 
ofevery administration, Whig and Democratic, from that 



40 



of Washington, down to that of Van Buren. For eight 
years, John Quincy Adams, as Secretary of State under 
Monroe, and four years as President, with Henry Clay, 
his Secretary of State, labored in vain to relieve our for- 
eign relations of this formidable question. 

Surveys, explorations, reports, and fruitless arbitrations 
were all that had been accomplished ; while the subject 
became every year more and more involved. Gen. Jack- 
son took it in hand with his characteristic energy ; but 
in every message, he reported this leading question of 
our foreign relations, unsettled, and he left it to his suc- 
cessor, Mr. Van Buren, as far from a settlement, as he 
found it. Mr. Van Buren and his Secretary of State 
had no better success. Every year, this vexed question 
came round in the message, as the most prominent, the 
most pressing, and the most difficult of all our national 
controversies ; and involving the peace of the country. 
Projects and counter projects for a new exploration were 
made, and also, for a new arbitration. But the details of 
their plan, after four more years of industrious negotia- 
tion, had not been agreed upon, when, with all its pro- 
found intricacies, in 1841, it fell into the hands of Gen. 
Harrison. 

In the mean time, dangerous collisions had arisen. 
Maine had lost her patience and taken up arms, — Gen. 
Scott had been sent to the frontier, and the danger of a 
rupture was imminent. The apprehension of war, — which 
is half as bad as war itself, — had become constant, in- 
terrupting the commerce, and seriously affecting the bus- 
iness of the country. 

Another question of scarcely less difficulty and danger, 
was that growing out of the destruction of the steamboat 
Caroline, and the arrest of McLeod. 



41 

The Caroline, which, in the year 1837, had been engaged 
in the service of the rebel forces, against the government 
of Canada, along the line of the United States, in defi- 
ance of the laws of both countries, — had been seized by 
the British troops, on the American side of the line, set 
on fire, and sent over the falls of Niagara ; and in the ac- 
complishment of this purpose, one man was said to have 
been killed. The British government at once avowed the 
act as its own. After three years of negotiation on this 
subject, without any result, McLeod, a British subject, 
was arrested in the State of New York, for murder, — on 
the ground that he was in the expedition against the 
Caroline. When it was known in England, that a British 
subject was about to be tried for his life, on account of 
services rendered as a British soldier, in obedience to mili- 
tary command, the national spirit was roused, and the 
government of England remonstrated in the most decided 
terms against the trial of McLeod. This was the state 
of things, when Mr. Webster took charge of our foreign 
relations. McLeod's release was demanded, and war was 
denounced, if he should be held. Here, then, was an- 
other emergency. 

Another irritating question, was that of the right of 
search, or visit, which had long threatened the peace of 
the two countries, and had been the subject of many in- 
effectual attempts to make a treaty. The question also, 
of the impressment of American seamen into the British 
service, which had been the chief cause of the last war 
with England, but had been left out of the treaty of peace 
at Ghent, still remained open. 

Such were but a part of the controversies on hand, in 
the State Department, when Mr. Webster took charge of 
6 



42 

it. To every one of them, he addressed himself, on 
taking the office, with all the enthusiasm of his youth. 
He thought he saw how to accomplish something great 
and good for his country, and creditable to himself 

As to McLeod, he assumed the responsibility of saying 
to the British government, that inasmuch as it avowed 
the act, for which he was arrested, as its own, our govern- 
ment, holding it responsible, would scorn to hold McLeod ; 
but demanded satisfaction for the violation of our terri- 
tory in crossing the line to seize the Caroline. Our gov- 
ernment was at once placed in the right, and war between 
two mighty nations was averted, in perfect consistency 
with the highest honor of both, by a prompt admission 
and assertion of the true principles of public law. An 
ample apology, "all that a nation of high honor could 
give, and all that a nation of high honor would ask," was 
obtained for the violation of our territory in seizing the 
offending boat. 

Unwilling to waste his strength in the further prosecu- 
tion of what seemed to him the futile proceedings in 
which the North-eastern boundary had become involved, 
Mr. Webster proposed at once to abandon them ; and in- 
vited the British government, to authorize her represen- 
tative to treat upon the footing of a conventional line, 
with equivalents. That government accepted the pro- 
posal, and at once commissioned Lord Ashburton, as a 
special minister, with full power to undertake the great 
work of negotiating on that, and other subjects, with Mr. 
Webster, at Washington. 

In the meantime. General Harrison had died; Mr- 
Tyler had succeeded ; many of the leading Whig mea- 
sures had been brought forward and passed through Con- 



43 

gress, and become laws, bat the Bank bill had been lost 
by a disagreement between the President and the Con- 
gress. The merits of that controversy it is not neccss.'sry 
to discuss ; but so high did the excitement rise, that all 
the members of the Harrison cabinet resigned their places, 
with the exception of Mr. Webster. The Secretary of 
State stood alone. 

Then it was, that he felt the weight of the displeasure 
of his own party, which demanded that he should resign 
also. He had learned to bear, with equanimity, the re- 
proaches of the other party, but the taunts of his own 
friends put his philosophy to an unaccustomed test. His 
motives were freely impugned, his moral character and 
his political character aspersed, and all his conduct de- 
nounced. Anon, he was patronized with unmeaning re- 
grets, with faint expressions of hopes of restoration to 
favor, and with officious advice for the future, from politi- 
cal busy-bodies, which were really worse to bear than the 
outspoken rage of the unthinking multitude. 

But his purposes were not shaken. Being in a posi- 
tion, where he could accomplish something valuable for 
his country, he " staid there." And this was the only 
reason, he deigned to render for his conduct. 

The responsibility of undertaking to agree upon any 
conventional line, by which a portion of the territory 
claimed by Maine, should be surrendered for equivalents 
and to say what those equivalents should be, in the ex- 
cited state of the public mind, was too heavy, and fraught 
with too much danger, to be assumed for any light cause. 
Maine and Massachusetts were, at once, invited to ap- 
point commissioners, to represent them in the negotiation • 
— a measure of undoubted policy. 



44 

In six months' time, all these several subjects of angry 
controversy, — all delicate, all difficult, and most of them 
of long standing, were settled, by a treaty which received 
the sanction of the Senate by a vote of thirty-nine to 
nine ; satisfied Maine, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, 
Vermont, and New York, all of which States were direct- 
ly interested in the result ; and secured to the United 
States important advantages, among which, was the own- 
ership of a strip of land, extending the whole length 
of the north line of New York and Vermont, including 
E-ouse's Point, a place of great importance in a military 
point of view. Rouse's Point had been fortified many years 
ago, upon the supposition, that it was south of the 45th 
degree of North latitude, the line between Canada and the 
United States. But on investigation, the parallel proved 
to be further south than had been supposed, and Rouse's 
Point, with a long strip of land in ou possession, actually 
belonged to Canada, according to the treaty of 1783. 
This treaty of 1842, re-established the old line of occu- 
pancy. By the settlement of the dispute as to the North- 
western-most head of the Connecticut river. New Hamp- 
shire gained a hundred thousand acres of land. 

The suppression of the slave-trade on the coast of 
Africa, to which both parties had long been pledged be- 
fore the world, but to eftect which, they had not been able 
to agree upon any plan, was provided for by a small squadron 
to be kept by each party in that service, with instructions 
enabling them to co-operate in carrying out the great end 
of breaking up that horrid traffic. This provision super- 
seded the much talked of quintuple treaty with right of 
search, the European powers having adopted this, and 
given up their own plan. 



45 

For the first time in the history of diplomacy, was nlso 
then introduced into a treaty, a provision for the extra- 
dition of persons charged with high crimes. Up to that 
time, every nation, civilized as well as savage, had been 
a secure refuge for the murderers, robbers, and pirates of 
foreign lands. This stipulation has also been followed, as 
a model, in subsequent treaties between the nations of 
Europe, and is likely to become a principle of public law. 
Nor was the subject of impressment overlooked. The 
doctrine of our own government was distinctly and 
authoritatively announced by Mr. Webster, and responded 
to by Lord Ashburton, in a manner to show that, that 
ancient pretension of England was given up forever; and 
that hereafter, " In every regularly-documented American 
merchant-vessel, the crew who navigate it, will find their 
protection in the flag which is over them." 

Such were some of the objects, to which Mr. Webster 
devoted himself as Secretary of State, and for which he 
remained in office under President Tyler, instead of resign- 
ing, as did his colleagues. He had prepared himself lor 
these services, and whosoever shall review the State pa- 
pers produced by his pen, during that dark and tempes- 
tuous period, will wonder that so much could have been 
done so well, in so short a time. 

The history of diplomacy furnishes no parallel. For 
the hope of accomplishing these great objects ; averting 
the horrors of war; securing the blessings of peace, — 
permanent peace, — and national good will ; providing a 
friendly and successful method of suppressing the slave 
trade, and advancing the administration of criminal justice; 
he chose to suffer affliction, in the detraction and abuse 
heaped upon him by his own party. No other American 



46 

combined in himself the influences necessary to negociate 
that treaty. He had the confidence of Maine and Massa- 
chusetts, and England, as well as that of his own govern- 
ment. If he had abandoned his post, who could have 
taken up and executed his plans ? — and how uncertain 
would have been the result ? Fifty years had been spent 
by former negotiators, both Whig and Democratic, and 
their only progress had been backward. He had origin- 
ated a plan of his own, involving the highest personal risk 
and responsibility on his part, but promising immense good 
to his country, if he succeeded. He believed he could 
accomplish that good, and was willing to incur that risk. 
The crises of 1842, are now past, and we can look back 
upon them without apprehension. But 

" If agaia the rude whirlwind should rise ! 
The da wirings of peace, should fresh darkness deform. 
The regrets of the good, and the fears of the wise. 
Shall turn to the Pilot that weathered the storm." 

But the treaty of Washington, and the correspondence 
connected with it, formed a part, only, of the diplomatic 
services of Mr. Webster, under Mr. Tyler's administration. 
It was under his guidance, that diplomatic relations were 
opened with the Imperial Court of China, resulting in a 
treaty of amity and commerce. His letter of instruc- 
tions to Mr. Cushing, the Commissioner to the Celestial 
Empire, and the letter addressed to the Emperor, and 
signed by the President, are specimens of genius, taste, 
and judgment. It is hardly too much to say, that they 
are inimitable. 

The correspondence between the Spanish government, 
on the Amisted case, justifying the course of our govern- 
ment in rejecting the claims of Spain, for indemnity ; the 



47 

correspondence ^^ife the German Zoll Verein ; the cor- 
respondence with Portugal respecting the duties on wines, 
and the true construction of the treaty with that govern- 
ment ; the correspondence with the Mexican authorities 
respecting the American citizens captured at Santa Fe, 
which resulted in saving them to their friends and country; 
the famous correspondence with the Mexican minister, 
Bocanegra, upon the Independence of Texas, in which the 
pretensions of Mexico, that Texas was still a province of 
that government, were answered and refuted in a manner 
to set the matter at rest; the correspondence upon the 
independence of the Sandwich Islands ; and, what I have 
ever regarded as, at least, equal to any of his diplomatic 
productions, his letter to Mr. Everett, then our Minister 
to the court of St. James, of March 28th, 1843, on the 
question of the right, put forth by the British government^ 
to visit merchantmen, to see if they had slaves, in which 
the right of visit is shown to be identical with the right 
of search, and the claim of the British Ministry as to both 
demonstrated to be wrong, and forever laid at rest, each 
and all of which bear the marks of his genius and his labor, 
and, besides forming an important part of the history of our 
country, are a rich accession to American literature. 

Under Mr. Webster's hand, diplomacy assumed a new 
character. Instead of concealment, circumlocution, and 
delay, an open and direct style of intercourse with the 
representatives of foreign Courts, was introduced. We 
find that Mr. Webster and Lord Ashburton took up the 
great matters between the nations represented by them^ 
in the most frank and practical way. No two merchants 
could go more directly and in a more business fashion 
about the statement of an open account, than did these 



48 

negotiators go about adjusting the North-eastern bound- 
ary, the case of the Caroline and of McLeod, the right of 
search, impressment, the suppression of the slave trade, 
and the extradition of criminals. 

The fairness and directness of that correspondence, on 
both sides, challenge universal admiration. All ceremo- 
nious preliminaries were dispensed with. Some of the 
old Senators, who had a relish for the ancient precedents, 
were astonished to find no protocols, no cautious steps, by 
which the diplomatists gradually approached each other ; 
no ingenious language, by which each negotiator, upon 
the principle of Talleyrand, concealed his own thoughts, 
and the intentions of his own government. All was open 
and out-spoken, like the intercourse of friends ; and what 
would have run through many years of the old fashioned 
deceitful diplomacy, was finished in less than six months. 

Another consequence was, that there was created a mu- 
tual confidence between the negotiators ; and that confi- 
dence extended from themselves to their governments, and 
people. Who of our own country did not regard Ash- 
burton as a friend ? The same sentiment, only in a greater 
degree, existed in England toward Webster. He was the 
medium of communication between our country and Eng- 
land for a longer time, and was therefore better known in 
England than was Ashburton in America. In England, 
Mr. Webster was regarded as the great Pacificator of our 
country. 

His justice, and his knowledge of public law, were uni- 
versally acknowledged in Europe, and as a statesman and 
diplomatist, his position was peculiar and commanding. 
He has, undoubtedly, contributed largely to elevate the 
estimate set upon American character, in Europe. What 



49 



American^ abroad, has not felt that influence, and been 
proud to acknowledge himself a countryman of Daniel 
Webster. 

His character was a guaranty, that peace would con- 
tinue. The nations of Europe, for the first time, have 
thought it no dishonor to receive the exposition of pub- 
lic law from an American Secretary. He dared to pro- 
pose what was right, and at once to waive those claims, 
which, though doubtful to others, were clearly wrong to 
him. 

And now, after the lapse of ten years from the inaugu- 
ration of General Hai'rison, as we turn back to consider 
the Whig measures, resulting from the great triumph of 
1840, how little remains to remind us of Whig power, be- 
yond the labors of the Secretary of State ? The great 
measures of the party, which were passed through Con- 
gress, have all been repealed, and now live only in history. 
But the Treaty of Washington remains, a monument, alike 
of Whig power, and patriotic service, and will remain for- 
ever; and will form an important chapter in the history 
of the Union, when the parties, and the partizans, of 1842, 
and 1843, avlU be unregarded, if not unknown. 

The next important epoch, in the career of Mr. Web- 
ster, was the 7th of March 1850, when he delivered 
the speech, in which, he announced to the country his 
opinions on the great questions then pending in Congress, 
between the North and the South. Much has been said 
of that speech. Perhaps no man has ever been more 
perseveringly pursued, with denunciation and abuse, than 
he has been, by a class of persons in the Free States, since 
that day. His position on that occasion, therefore, re- 
quires our attention. 
7 



50 



A crisis had come, when the Union was believed, by the 
the most experienced and best men in the nation, and by 
him among them, to be in imminent peril. Men of local- 
ized minds, on both sides of Mason and Dixon's line, had 
agitated the questions, growing out of the annexations from 
Mexico, till, at least one of the opposing sections of the 
country, was almost ripe for separation. Nor had this 
peril been unforeseen or unjold, by Mr. Webster, when 
these conquests were made, and territories acquked. He 
then anticipated the trials, that would come, when the 
questions of Slavery and Freedom should be applied to the 
new acquisitions, and trembled for the result. This was 
the ground of his opposition to the ratification of the 
treaty, which gave us those immense regions to contend 
about. This danger, not manifest to others then, became 
palpable to all, in the progress of events, most exactly as 
he had foretold. All, or almost all, saw the crisis at hand, 
and felt the danger. The infatuated lovers of strife and 
disunion, both North and South, were in ecstacics, as 
they saw the angry passions rise in Congress, and else- 
where, throughout the country. The men of most ex- 
perience, and with the largest opportunities for observation, 
at the seat of government, were appalled at the prospects. 
No healing measure could pass through the Senate, if 
every Senator adhered to the extreme local views of the 
section of country from which he came. The Missouri 
question had shaken the country to its centre ; but here 
were more and greater questions, than that of the admis- 
sion of Missouri. Here was California, with her free con- 
stitution, knocking for admission. Here were Texas and 
New Mexico, contending, with arms in their hands, for 
a tract of country claimed by both. Here were New 



51 

Mexico and Utah, without a governmentj and Congress, 
after six months of strife and furious contest, wholly un- 
able to give them one. And here were the deep and 
ominous complaints from the South, that the obligations 
of the constitution, as to the reclamation of fugitives from 
service, were repudiated by the North. 

Then it was, that Mr. Webster came forAvard, and held 
up to each of the opposing sections, the mirror of truth, 
and signified by the speech above referred to, the terms 
upon which he would vote for a compromise. On the one 
hand, California was to be admitted, notwithstanding the 
irregularities of her application, with her constitutional 
prohibition of slavery ; and Texas was to yield a portion 
of the territory claimed by her, to the United States, for 
a consideration. On the other hand, the Territories were 
to receive Territorial governments, without the proviso ; 
and an amendment of the Fugitive slave law was to be 
passed, with the purpose of carrying out the provision of 
the Constitution on that subject. 

Without some conciliatory measures, like these, the 
government could not proceed. Legislation had come to 
a stand. It is vain to speculate upon the causes, which 
had brought the country into that unhappy state. The 
South had, undoubtedly, been sadly disappointed. The 
discovery of the gold mines, had brought to California, an 
unexpected influx of popidation from the Free States, who 
had at once formed a constitution, shutting the door on 
slavery, and presented themselves to Congress, for admis- 
sion. New Mexico had shown the same disposition on 
the subject of slavery; and of Utah, the South had never 
anjrthing to hope. The hopes of the South, in relation to 
the extension of slave territory, were signally, and in a 



52 



wonderful manner disappointed. She saw that she was 
about not only to lose her ascendancy in the Senate;, 
which she had hoped from the annexation of Texas, but 
by the admission of California, to be thrown into a minori- 
ty, with the decided prospect, that New Mexico and Utah 
would soon be added to the roll of the Free States. Her 
politicians were struck with despair. So great was their 
distrust of the justice of the North, that they feared that 
if they once became subject to her power, they would no 
longer have any guaranty, against tyranny and oppres- 
sion. Their attachment to the Union, was weakened. 
They felt, that they were about to be deprived of that 
equality of power in the Union, which they had Tbeen 
taught to believe essential to the security of equal privi- 
leges to all its members. They had, therefore, no such 
strong bond, to attach them to the Union, as had the 
people of the North, who were just about to enter into 
the undisputed majority in both houses of Congress. It 
was manifest to Mr. Webster, that there must be concilia- 
tion and liberality, or that all would be lost. In this, he 
concurred with Mr. Clay, Gen. Cass, Mr. Benton, and the 
most experienced statesmen and patriots of the nation. 

Here we are met, by men who were not in that part of 
the country where the danger was manifest, with the as- 
sumption, that no danger existed; — but that California 
could have been admitted, the proviso put on the territo- 
ries, the Fugitive slave law rejected, and every measure of 
the North carried with a high hand, and the Southern 
members, and the Southern people, finding they could not 
intimidate the North, would submit and be quiet. 

In the first place, this assumption is contradicted and 
disproved, by the witnesses, whose opportunities of knowl- 



53 



edge entitle them to credit. It is disproved, by the uni- 
form testimony of both parties in the South, the region 
where the danger lay. It is also contradicted, by the 
testimony of the most experienced statesmen, of both 
parties, in the North, who were at the seat of government, 
and had the best opportunities to ascertain the truth, on 
the subject. Besides, the Congress had ceased to make 
progress in business. Six months had been spent in cri- 
mination and recrimination, and nothing had been accom- 
plished, and there was no prospect of anything being ac- 
complished. 

It is an easy thing pertly to deny the existence of 
danger, when the danger is past, or at a distance. 
Indeed it is natural, to flatter ourselves that things will go 
on, as they have done, especially if the cloud which is 
charged with danger, is distant. Such has been the ex- 
perience of all the nations that have fdlen by civil com- 
motion, — and what republic, but this, has escaped that 
very catastrophe ? 

The majority has generally thought all was secure, and 
that their opponents were only seeking to gain their points 
by threats of rebellion. Like the dwellers upon the earth 
when Noah was preparing for the flood, they believe noth- 
ing which they do not, with their own eyes, behold. When 
the patriot, seeing the true nature of the peril, seeks to 
overcome it by the appropriate means, he encounters the 
scoffs and contumely of all this class of unbelievers. Some 
have thought they could find countenance in thus deny- 
ing the testimony of the best witnesses, by alleging the 
regular progress of business in the country, and especially 
by asserting that the stock market remained quiet. 

Without admitting that the value of the public funds 



54 



was undisturbed during those perils, or that they furnish 
a true index of the actual danger, it is sufficient to re- 
mark, that the apprehension of a rupture was allayed, by 
the confidence of the whole country in the men at the 
head of affairs in Washington. If Webster, and Clay, 
and Cass, and Benton, and Fillmore, and others who acted 
with them, had not been in the Senate, or at the head of 
the government, who can tell how the stocks would have 
stood ? Nay, if these wise and patriotic statesmen had 
been removed, at that crisis, and replaced with those 
other statesmen who believe that the Union will take care 
of itself, and that Congress is a safe and commodious 
place for the exhibition of champions, but who cannot 
reconcile our Constitution with the higher law of God ; 
and they retained the same opinions, when in power, which 
they had advocated when trying to get into it, — who 
doubts that the greatest consternation would have prevail- 
ed, and that it would have aflected the funds in the market, 
and every kind of business ? 

There is but one theory which can explain that point 
in the career of Mr. Webster. It has been charged by 
some, occupying extreme grounds in the North, that it 
was an ambitious bid for the favor of the South. Like 
the disappointed partisans of 1842 and 1843, these men 
can see no room for patriotism. Believing him to be ambi- 
tious, they infer that he was unpatriotic. They forget that 
the favor of the North was ftir more valuable to him, 
than that of the South, and that Daniel Webster was not 
blind, nor idiotic. They forget to consider that Mr. 
Webster had, on former occasions, stood against his party, 
for principle. They forget to give him any credit for the 
experience he had had, and the uniform attachment which, 



55 

from his earliest life, he had shown for the Union. They 
forect to consider that his means of information as to 
the real danger to that Union, were better than their 
own, and as good as any one in the Union possessed, and 
that other minds of the first order and greatest experi- 
ence in the country. North and South, were of the same 
opinion. They forget, above all, that they were them- 
selves under the strong influence of local excitement, and 
were consequently very liable to be mistaken. 

But, how was the North affected by this great series 
of measures ? In the first place, she secured a decided 
supremacy in both houses of Congress, by the admission 
of the new and glorious State of California; with the pros- 
pect of several more Free States, to be formed out of 
Utah and New Mexico. In the next place, the line of 
Texas was settled, and a portion of the immense territo- 
ry claimed by her, relinquished, by which, even a part of 
the territory before subject to be made the abode of 
slaves, under Texan laws, — larger than the State of Ohio, 
— was given up to the General Government, and is now 
free soil. 

They lost the Wilmot Proviso. But what was that 
proviso, but a prohibition of slavery ? No slavery existed 
in New Mexico, or Utah. New Mexico had no law tol- 
erating slavery, and she soon after voted herself a consti- 
tution, expressly excluding it; — and who supposed that 
slaves were likely to find their way to Utah ? Those 
countries were not suited to support the institution ; and 
the people, as well as their laws, were decidedly opposed 
to it. How can slavery be introduced into those territo- 
ries ? Whoever shall venture to carry his slaves thith- 
er, thereby makes them free. It has been decided by the 



56 

highest Court in the Union, that slavery is the creature 
of the municipal law. Without legal provisions it can- 
not exist. New Mexico and Utah have no more law for 
slavery, than has Massachusetts ; and are as much free 
countries, with this difference, that Massachusetts has 
the power to enact slavery, if she should so determine, 
which New Mexico and Utah cannot do, without the ap- 
proval of the general government. How then are slave- 
holders to gain such an ascendancy, as to pass laws cre- 
ating slavery, when they cannot carry a single slave into 
the country, and keep him such. In other words, how 
can New Mexico be made a slave country without slave- 
holders? And how can she have slaveholders, when, by 
her laws, no man can hold slaves ? The law is clear on 
the subject, and the result is inevitable. 

But Mr. Webster said, that the nature of these coun- 
tries rendered slavery impossible, — a region of lofty moun- 
tains, and narrow vales, — of streams which are dry a large 
part of every year, — of a soil that without irrigation, is 
barren ; where neither cotton, nor sugar, nor rice, — the 
great products of slave labor, — can be raised. 

There can be no doubt that Mr. Webster and those 
Northern men who acted in concert with liim, believed that 
slavery never could be introduced into New Mexico or 
Utah, and that the Wilmot Proviso was a mere hrutiiin 
fidmen ; — a taunt, irritating to the South, and useless to 
the North ; and under the circumstances of the country, 
only mischievous in its influences. The appropriate use 
of a proviso of that kind, is to be applied to a region 
likely to be occupied by slaves. When Texas was re- 
ceived into the Union, with the sure prospect of slavery, 
the Wilmot Proviso would have been sensible. 



57 



But Mr. Webster is charged with inconsistency because 
he had said he was unalterably opposed to the extension of 
slavery ; and had said that the Wilmot Proviso men were 
not entitled to take out a patent for this prohibition, as 
any invention of their's ; and that he had himself always 
acted upon it, and always intended to act upon it. 
But he never pledged himself to go for applying this pro- 
viso when it was unnecessary. This proviso is, in fact, 
not a principle. It is but a means to an end. If the end 
is attained, the proviso has no application, and is useless. 

What Mr. Webster did pledge himself to, was, opposi- 
tion to the extension of slavery. To this pledge he has 
ever been true. If thev who are so loud in their denun- 
ciations of him, had all been as true to that principle as 
he, when Texas was brought into the Union, the extension 
of slavery might possibly have been earlier hmited. 

But it is said, that Mr. Webster favored the present 
Fugitive slave law. Though not in the Senate, when the 
bill was actually passed, he may be considered as favoring 
the series of measures, of which this formed a part. In 
February, 1850, however, he prepared, or caused to be 
prepared, an act amendatory of the Fugitive act of 1793, 
and on the third of June, introduced it to the Senate, 
by whose order it was printed. This bill contained a pro- 
vision for a trial by jury, in all cases where the person 
claimed as a slave, should, " under oath, deny, that he 
owed service to the claimant." This bill was afterwards 
superseded by the bill of Mr. Mason, which was passed 
after Mr. Webster became Secretary of State. 

But a Fugitive slave law has been in force since 1793, 
which allowed no jury ; and, notwithstanding the clamor 
on this subject, there never has been a single authentica- 
8 



58 



ted case, under the old law, or under the new, — so far as 
I have been able to learn, — where a free man has lost his 
liberty by it; and there is no probability that there ever 
will be such a case. Slave-holders are not about to ex- 
pose themselves to the hazards of coming to a Free State, 
to subject freemen to bondage. To reclaim their slaves, 
requires all their courage. No, the objection to this law 
goes against the Constitution itself It is not any appre- 
hension that free men Avill be carried into slavery, against 
the Constitution, but that slaves vnll be reclaimed, accord- 
ing to the Constitution. 

Mr. Webster held, and it was a ruling principle of ac- 
tion with him, that if we would have our Constitution 
perpetual, we must abide by, and observe it, — that if we 
would have its manifold blessings ourselves, we must per- 
form our duty under it, and not repudiate our solemn ob- 
ligations to others. Such were his views on this subject ; 
and there is no reason to doubt his sincerity. It was in 
perfect consistency with his whole life. 

He was undoubtedly, first, and last, and always, oppos- 
ed to slavery; but his mind never narrowed itself down 
to the idea of overturning this wide spread institution, 
by encouraging here and there a negro, to run away from 
his master. He took broader views of the subject. He 
may have been in error. But such were his principles, 
and they were undoubtedly honest. Love of country was 
a living, active principle, of his whole life. It overruled 
his party predilections; it overruled his sectional pre- 
judices; it inspired his mind with a high and glowing zeal, 
which encountered the greatest obstacles with hope and 
courage, and enabled him to stand alone, for his country, 
against the voice of his own friends, and even against the 



59 



voice of his own Massachusetts. It was this elevated 
and impartial character, that gave him so wide an influ- 
ence in the Union. The South saw and felt the noble 
principles of his conduct, and listened to his advice. 
They felt, that he was not contending for a victory over 
them, but for justice to all. The same elevation of char- 
acter, which gave him influence with foreign nations, and 
caused them to confide in his justice, gave him weight 
with those sections of the country, most distant from that 
where he was born, and where he resided. 

But how impotent and how absurd are the reproaches 
cast upon him by a class of deluded men, who declare 
that he has not been tme to the North ! Who of them 
all, has shown a steady and potent friendship to the North, 
to compare with him ? Nay, all of those who have sought 
to fill the ears of the public with maledictions against his 
fair fame, and who have labored hard to deprive the coun- 
try of the honor of producing the greatest man of the 
age, — what have they all done for freedom, or for the 
North, that could have entitled any one, or all of them, 
to lecture Daniel Webster on that subject, or that can 
warrant them now to malign his memory? 

Daniel Webster not a friend to the North! The his- 
tory of what he has done, and what he has been, for the 
North, and for the whole country, though he be now dead, 
will yet do for the North, — for old Massachusetts her- 
self, — what millions of such men, as are these his malign- 
ers, could not, and would not do, if they could live on 
earth forever. He not a friend to the North, and her in- 
stitutions ! What has his whole life been, but one living, 
glowing epistle, unto all men, of the merit, and glory of 
the North ? How poorly could the North spare the fame, 



60 



or the services, of Webster! Obliterate his name, char- 
acter, and services from the record of the last fifty years, 
and how differently would read the history of the United 
States ? But immeasurably greater would be the loss to the 
North, than to the South, by such an obliteration. The 
South would still have her Clay, and her Calhoun. 

But against slavery itself, Webster has rendered more 
substantial service, than any of these philanthropists. 
What he has said on that subject, has been read by mil- 
lions, and already, by more than one generation. When 
he met the South on the Foote resolution, he put slavery 
where it belonged, — the first on the catalogue of mighty 
evils; but he has not deemed it useful, or proper, to pur- 
sue the slave-holder, with abuse and invective. This, 
would be neither noble, nor fair, nor politic. Ranting 
about slavery, effects no good object. Indeed, the most 
famous of these declaimers against slavery and slave- 
holders in our country, have exerted no good influence on 
the minds of those who have the control of that institu- 
tion ; they have obtained some undeserved praise from 
one another ; they have caught some crumbs of office, 
that the two great parties could not agree how to distribute 
among themselves ; but the evidences of any good ac- 
complished by them for the slave, or the slave-holder, for 
the Free States, or the Slave States, or the United States, 
are altogether wanting. 

It has been Mr. Webster's misfortune, that he has stood 
peculiarly in the way of all that class of men, who were 
too much infatuated on any subject, to submit to the Con- 
stitution ; they did not like that instrument — he loved it, 
and always defended it, with his best efforts ; they agi- 
tated, and spoke a great deal, and but few read their lu- 



61 



cubrations ; he spoke, and the nation read, and gave heed 
to what they read. When these men were in a fair 
way to get up an excitement in Massachusetts, or in some 
other corner of the Union, a few sober and just words 
fitly spoken by him, bhghted their prospects. They have 
been pecuharly annoyed by him. Not that he has 
sought to annoy anybody, but, that as he preserved the 
even tenor of his own way, his influence has, incidentally, 
kept them in check. All the enemies of the Constitution 
hated Webster ; they could never derive any comfort from 
him. Especially was he odious to the disunionists of the 
north, because being himself from their vicinity, he was a 
more fatal extinguisher, to them, than any vSouthern man 
could be. They delighted in the opposition of the South. 
Indeed, opposition, from any source, exhilarated them. It 
caused a commotion, and kindled a flame, and gave them 
consequence and hope. It was this incidental extinguish- 
ment, which they detested. 

I would not be understood, as denying to many of this 
class of persons, sincere and honest purposes. I regard 
their doctrine as one of the numerous forms, which hu- 
man infatuation assumes, growing stronger and more in- 
tolerant, in proportion to the absurdity of the opinions 
upon which it is founded. Mr. Webster always gave them 
credit for sincerity and honesty, — a compliment they 
were not always careful to reciprocate. 

Mr. Webster loved the Union, and cherished it, as the ark 
of our liberties. Though conservative, he was not against 
progress. He* readily fell into the support of useful and 
liberal improvements. But he dared not let go the Con- 
stitution of our government, which he regarded as the 



62 



best gift from God to our fathers, and entirely consistent 
with the highest law, known on earth, or among men.* " 

We have another field to notice, in which Mr. Webster 
shone with original and peculiar lustre; His Orations and 
Addresses, on anniversary and other occasions, form a most 
important accession to American literature. 

The oration delivered by him, on the second centennial 
celebration of the landing of the Pilgrims, in the year 
1820, was the first of that class of productions, which 
have been incorporated into his published works. That 
discourse combined the excellencies of the historian and 
the poet, with those of the orator. By the force of his 
imagination, the Pilgrims seemed to live again, and to 
pass in review before us. The imagination of Homer has 
clothed the heroes of Greece, and of Troy, with no more 
life-like characters, and with no more poetic interest, than 
those with which Webster has invested the Pilgrims and 
their early history. He caught the inspiration of the oc- 
casion. He comprehended and felt the full nature of the 
events and characters he celebrated. He stood on the 
rock of Plymouth, two hundred years from the day upon 



* Note : — It has been reported, since the decease of Mr. Webster, that he said 
before his death, that he had made a mistake in his seventh of March speech; and 
some newspapers liave given currency to the report. That it was a fiction, was 
manifest. But wishing authentic information, I addressed a note of inquiry to 
Mr. "Webster's son on the subject, and received the following reply: 

Boston, December 27, 1852. 
My Dkar Sir : — The report to which you refer, viz : that my father said he made 
a mistake in his seventh of March speech, is in eveiy respect nntrue. The assertion 
is false, and you have my authority for denying it. 

Had there been occasion, he would have done the thing over again. The belief 
that by that effort he had aided to preserve the Union, and restore good feeling 
throughout the country, cheered him to his latest hour. 

Alwavs vours, 

FLETCHER WEBSTER. 



63 



which that rock "received the feet of the Pilgrims," and 
his great heart heaved with genuine emotions, as he poured 
forth the true, and yet poetic thoughts, inspired in his 
heart, by the place, the time, and the assembly ; — com- 
mencing with the exclamation: "Let us rejoice that we 
behold this day! Let us be thankful that we have lived 
to see the bright and happy breaking of the auspicious 
morn which commences the third century of the history 
of New England, * * Forever honored be this, the 
place of our fathers' refuge. Forever remembered the day 
which saw them weary and distressed, — broken in every 
thing but spirit, poor in all but feith and courage, — at 
last secure from the dangers of wintry seas, and impres- 
sing this shore with the first footsteps of civilized man." 
And when he has introduced us to the puritans them- 
selves, and taught us thek character, the constancy of 
their faith, their sincerity, their perseverance, and the 
variety of their qualifications, and put in their mouths 
words which breathe the well known sentiments, we seem 
to hear those devoted patriarchs of New England exclaim, 
'' If God prosper us, if God prosper us, we shall here 
begin a work that shall last for ages ; we shall plant here 
a new society, in the principles of the fullest liberty 
and the purest religion; we shall subdue this wilder- 
ness which is before us; we shall fill this region of 
the great continent, which stretches almost from pole 
to pole, with civilization and Christianity; the temples 
of the true God shall rise, where now ascends the 
smoke of idolatrous sacrifice; fields and gardens, the 
flowers of summer, and the waving and golden harvests of 
autumn, shall spread over a thousand hills, and stretch 
along a thousand valleys never yet, since the creation, 



64 



reclaimed to the use of civilized men. We shall whiten 
this coast with the canvas of a prosperous commerce; we 
shall stud the long and winding shore, with a hundred 
cities. That which we sow in weakness shall be raised in 
strength. From our sincere, but houseless worship, there 
shall spring splendid temples to record God's goodness; 
from the simplicity of our social union, there shall arise 
wise and politic constitutions of government, full of the 
liberty which we ourselves bring and breathe; from our 
zeal for learning, institutions shall spring, which shall 
scatter the light of knowledge throughout the land, and, 
in time, paying back where they have borrowed, shall con- 
tribute their part to the great aggregate of human knowl- 
edge; and our descendants, through all generations, shall 
look back to this spot, and to this hour, with unabated 
affection and regard." 

After sketching with historic accuracy, and poetic fer- 
vor, the events preceding the emigration of the Pilgrims 
to this country, and the causes of these events, and the 
purposes which led them to encounter the perils of the 
sea, and of the wilderness, and of the savages, and after 
tracing in a comprehensive form, and with a master hand, 
the consequences that had resulted from that early settle- 
ment to the century then past, and the consequences 
that would result from that event, to the centuries to 
come, with some important observations upon the true 
principles of our society and government, as well as upon 
our institutions and our duties under them, his audience 
are introduced into the august presence of their fithers 
who lived a hundred years ago, and of their descendants^ 
who shall live a hundred years hence, and running forward 
to the morning of the next centennial, the orator meets 



65 



the future generations "with cordial salutation, ere yet 
they have arrived on the shore of heing." 

" Advance, then, ye future generations ! We would 
hail you as you rise in your long succession, to fill the 
places which we now fill, and to taste the blessings of ex- 
istence where we are passing, and soon shall have passed 
our own human duration. We bid you welcome to the 
pleasant land of the Fathers. We bid you welcome to the 
healthful skies and the verdant fields of New England. 
We greet your accession to the great inheritance which 
we have enjoyed. We welcome you to the blessings of a 
good government and religious liberty. We welcome you 
to the treasures of science, and the delights of learning. 
We welcome you to the transcendant sweets of domestic 
life, to the happiness of kindred, and parents, and chUd- 
ren. We welcome you to the immeasurable blessings of 
national existence, the immortal hope of Christianity, and 
the light of everlasting truth." 

That greeting shall live from generation to generation, 
and as often as it shall be repeated on the 22nd of De- 
cember, shall gladden the hearts of the sons of the Pil- 
grims, wheresoever dispersed throughout the American 
Union, — whether on the Atlantic slope, on the Ohio, on 
the Lakes, on the Mississippi, on the Gulf of Mexico, on 
the Pacific, or at their own wintry homes m New England. 
And as it shall be wafted forward on the tide of time, 
from age to age, it will everywhere be received with the 
voice of acclamation and joy, by each new and rising gen- 
eration ; and the hearts of those who shall repair to the 
rock of Plymouth, on the morn of the third centennial, 
will swell with admiration and gratitude, as they shall ac- 

9 



6G 



cept that welcome, coming down to them from a former 
century. 

The rock may crumble and waste under the corroding 
power of time. But the oration of 1820 is of immortal 
material, and, surviving the rock itself, will prolong the 
memories of the Forefathers, when the granite bowlder 
of Plymouth has gone to everlasting decay. 

His next pubhc oration was delivered at the lajdng of 
the corner stone of the Bunker liill monument, in the year 
1825. Here, again, he seems, first of all, to have con- 
ceived the true idea of the occasion. The first great bat- 
tle of the Revolution was to be celebrated on the ground 
where it was fought, and that spot was to be marked for 
immortaUty, and beautifully does he declare the purpose 
of that work. — " We come, as Americans, to mark a spot 
which must forever be dear to us and to our posterity. We 
wish that whosoever, in all coming time, shall turn his 
eye hither, may behold that the place is not undistinguish- 
ed where the first great battle of the Revolution was 
fought. We wish that labor may look up here and be 
proud, in the midst of its toil. * * We wish, finally, 
that the last object to the sight of him who leaves his na- 
tive shore, and the first to gladden the sight of him who 
revisits it, may be something which shtJl remind him of 
the liberty and glory of his country. Let it rise ! let it 
rise, till it meet the the sun in his coming; let the ear- 
liest light of the morning gild it, and parting day linger 
and play on its summit." 

In this, as in all his productions, we find the love of 
America, and the American Union, which shines with the 
same intensity, in both his earlier and his later produc- 
tions. He does not turn the occasion to the purpose of 



G7 

fostering the local pride of New England. He exalts a 
spirit of union and harmony, and seeks deeply to enforce 
the conviction and to cherish the habitual feeling that 
these States are but one country. 

The presence of Gen. Lafliyette, who was on his tour 
of the United States, added a peculiar interest to the oc- 
casion. The oration was published far and wide, and con- 
tributed largely to the completion of the monument itself, 
by the popularity awakened in its behalf 

But the oration delivered eighteen years after, on the 
completion of the monument, has always seemed to me, 
as a whole, to surpass the former. I cannot believe, how- 
ever, that ancient or modern oratory has furnished any 
specimens superior to either of them. 

Again we find him rapt with the inspiration of the oc- 
casion. The first great battle of the Revolution, with its 
causes and consequences, was all before him. Here, was 
realized his own definition of eloquence. Here was "the 
man, the subject, and the occasion." The monument was 
finished. There it stood, "rising over the land and over 
the sea," while he enrobed it with the dignity and moral 
grandeur of its well-known purpose, and made the monu- 
ment itself the orator of the occasion. With outstretch- 
ed arms, he gazed upon the lofty column, and said: "The 
powerful speaker stands motionless before us. It is a 
plain shaft. It bears no inscription.? fronting "the rising 
sun, from which the future antiquarian shall wipe the 
dust. Nor does the rising sun cause tones of music to 
issue from its summit. But at the rising of the sun, and 
at the setting of the sun, in the blaze of noon day, and 
beneath the milder effulgence of lunar light, it looks, it 
speaks, it acts, to the full comprehension of evexy Ameri- 



68 



can mind, and the awakening of glowing enthusiasm in 
every American heart. * * To-day it speaks to us. 
Its future auditories will be the successive generations of 
men, as they rise up before it and gather round it. Its 
speech will be of patriotism and courage ; of civil and re- 
ligious liberty; of free government; of the moral im- 
provement and education of mankind; of the immortal 
memory of those, who, with heroic devotion, have sacri- 
ficed their lives for their country." The same enthusias- 
tic love of the whole American Union, hallowed the rock 
of Plymouth in 1820, sanctified the corner stone in 1825, 
and now exalted the cap-stone, of the monument, in 
1843. Who does not feel, that it was the man himself, 
with his own true natural impulses, that exclaimed, 
"Woe betide the man who brings to this day's worship, 
feeling less than wholly American! Woe betide the man 
who can stand here with the fires of local resentments 
burning, or the purpose of fomenting local jealousies and 
the strifes of local interest, festering and rankling in his 
heart." 

His love and reverence for Washington, which was only 
second to his love of the American Union, broke forth on 
this occasion in a passage of transcendant eloquence, 
which seems to exalt even the character of the illustrious 
father of his country. And finally, he closes the whole 
discourse, by teaching the ingenuous youth of after ages, 
the patriotic ejaculation, " Thank God, I — I also, — am 
an American." 

Itis impossible to conceive, of a more perfect embodiment 
of vivid, glowing patriotism, than is furnished by that dis- 
course. The CoUiseum and the Parthenon arose in an age 
of eloquence and of art. They have survived the dark ages. 



69 

But who the orator was, that expressed the sentiment of 
the occcasion of the commencement, or of the completion, 
of those grand and classic structures, we are as ignorant 
as we are of the purpose of the erection of the pyramids. 
When the Colliseum and the Parthenon shall have per- 
ished, the monument of Bunker Hill will live in the clas- 
sic eloquence of the orations with which it has been con- 
secrated. 

The oration upon the death of Adams and Jefferson, 
was delivered in 1826, and like each of the three orations 
I have last referred to, stands out from the literary pro- 
ductions of the age, a classic work of genius and art. 
No statue of Phidias, or of Powers, is more perfect and 
complete, or delightful to contemplate. Its colossal gran- 
deur does not impair its beauty. The imagination per- 
formed its work here, as at Plymouth, and as at Bunker 
Hill. 

Their part in the Declaration of Independence, which 
was the "crowning mercy" of the lives of tliese immortal 
sages and patriots, was re-produced, in a style so true to 
their characters, so true to the history and spirit of 1776, 
and so truly eloquent, that we almost cease to regret, that 
the thunders of the eloquence of John Adams, in the 
Congress of '76, were never reported; nay, we deem it 
fortunate, that an occasion was thus furnished to the 
genius of Webster, to enrich the literature of our country, 
with one of his happiest productions. To make a speech 
for old John Adams, was a bold undertaking. It was not 
like the writing of speeches for the generals and dema- 
gogues of Rome, or of Greece, to incorporate in Roman 
or Grecian history. Neither Livy, nor Thucydides, or 
Xenophon, ever put words in the mouth of such a man 



70 



as John Adams. But the attempt of Mr. Webster was 
not more daring^ than it was successful; and the elo- 
quence of Adams will be known to posterity more effec- 
tually through this single production of his eulogist, than 
from all the history of the times, or even from his own 
works. Henceforth, no power on earth can separate the 
the name of Webster, from the name of Adams and Jef- 
ferson. That history of the life and death of Adams and 
Jefferson, which should omit the name of Webster, would 
be imperfect; and the biographer of Webster, as he de- 
lineates his character, and follows down the course of his 
illustrious life, will pause to inform his readers that Adams 
and Jefferson, who were so happy in leaving this earth 
together, on the anniversary of their own glorious Dec- 
laration of Independence, were equally fortunate in their 
eulogist, by whose eloquence, their memories, which were 
before immortal, have received a richer fragrance and a 
more enchanting beauty. 

Mr. Webster's speech at a public dinner on the centen- 
nial of the birth of Washington, in 1832, has united his 
name to that of the father of our country, by ties that 
can never be shaken. He has often, on other public oc- 
casions, recurred to the character of Wasliington, with the 
most ardent love and filial reverence. No man has pro- 
nounced such breathing thoughts and burning words, over 
the memory of Washington, as Webster. Washington 
had cherished the same uncompromising, undying passion 
for the Union, whole and entire, which Webster loved 
from his earliest youth, and which he continued to love 
with increasing ardor to the end of life. This centennial 
discourse in honor of Washington, is replete with patri- 
otic sentiment. He contrasts the character of Washing- 



71 



ton, mth "the hundreds whom party excitement, and 
temporaiy circumstances, and casual combinations, have 
raised into transient notoriety, and who sink again, like 
thin bubbles, bursting and dissolving into the great ocean, 
while Washington's fame is like the rock which bounds 
that ocean, and at whose base its billows are destined to 
break harmlessly forever." We cannot, on the present 
occasion, longer delay in the dehghtful field of his literary 
taste and genius. 

His introductory lecture, read in the year 1828, be- 
fore the Boston Mechanics' Institution, displaying new 
powers of mind, as it opened a new field of exertion ; his 
great speech at Niblo's Garden in New York, in 1837, 
combining the best and highest specimens of his style, 
with the most important discussion of political and Con- 
stitutional principles, in which he created and consecrated 
the motto, "that we have one countr}^, one Constitution, 
one destiny;" his speech in Fanueil Hall, on the oOth of 
September, 1842, after the completion of the treaty with 
Great Britain, made in the midst of the obloquy and 
slanders heaped upon him, as a remaining member of Mr. 
T} ler's cabinet, and in the face of the leaders of the 
Whig party, who demanded his resignation of office, — a 
speech, beautiful in its style, and of the most intense in- 
terest for its matter, and exhibiting a peculiar instance of 
moral courage, of which I know not that our country has 
iurnished any other like example ; his speech at a public 
dinner in Philadelphia, in 1846, containing an elaborate 
discussion of his doctrine of improving the rivers and har- 
bors of the country, the liberahty of which ought ever 
to endear his memory to the people of the West ; the 
address delivered at the laying of the corner stone of the 



72 



addition to the Capitol, on the Fourth of July, 1851, 
abounding in useful historical reminiscences a.id reflec- 
tions, as well as new incitements to patriotism, and to 
love of the Union ; his address at the triennial celebra- 
tion of the Royal Agricultural Society of England, at Ox- 
ford, in the year 1839 ; and his discourse in the State 
House in Boston, on the agriculture of England, after his 
return from Europe, in the same year, which surprises us 
with the extent of his observations and knowledge on that 
important subject, and discloses how near to his heart, lay 
the agricultural interests of his own country; — all of 
these, with numerous other addresses on similar occasions, 
rich in every merit of oratory, taste, patriotism, and 
genius, we must leave untouched, to delight those who 
shall find time to read and to study them for themselves. 
One other literary production, however, has presented 
his intellectual power and acquirements in an aspect so 
new and surprising, as to forbid our omitting to mention 
it. I refer to the discourse read before the Historical 
Society in New York, but a few months before his decease. 
History was his theme, and by his clear and broad defi- 
nitions and his happy illustrations of history itself, as well 
as by his critical comments upon the great authors of the 
world, both ancient and modern, both in history and in 
poetry, he discloses a part of the secret of his own literary 
taste and power. This work, was wholly aside from his 
accustomed sphere of public effort. It was a new devel- 
opment of the wonderful fertility of his mind in his old 
age, which, like the great tragedy of "(Edipus at Colon," 
composed by Sophocles in his old age, and read before his 
judges, to prove himself of sound mind, disproves, be- 
yond controversy, all intellectual decay in Mr. Webster, 



73 



if it does not establish an absolute growth of mental 
power, to the last. 

I have thus imperfectly sketched the works of Mr. 
Webster in the several departments of his greatness, as 
a lawyer, as a legislator, as a diplomatist and statesman, 
as an orator and author. 

As a man, Mr. Webster had, with high intellectual cul- 
tivation, a heart filled with simple, natural impulses. He 
loved nature with enthusiasm, and wherever he went, had 
an eye to observe her. Natural aftection was strong in 
him. Father, mother, brothers, sisters, children, when 
they lived, were ever dear to him, and when they died, 
he never ceased to cherish their memories. It was this, 
which led him to purchase and keep the homestead of his 
father in New Hampshire, where were the graves of the 
family, and to which every year he could repair and re- 
new his remembrances of his dear departed kindred. His 
mother's garden, he preserved as carefully as if she were 
alive, at whatever cost. That " excellent mother," who 
breathed into his youthful mind aspirations far above 
his early condition, and urged him forward in the rugged 
path of improvement, was never absent from his memory. 
His heart was large and generous, and " floated in a deep 
sea of human affections," which knew no ebb while life 
continued. His first humble earnings were not hoarded, 
nor enjoyed by himself, but were consecrated to the 
education of his brother Ezekiel. Even in old age, he 
retained the feelings and sentiments instilled into his 
mind in childhood, by his parents. From them, he had 
early learned to reverence the Supreme Being. No pro- 
fane word, even in the stormiest periods of his life, es- 
caped his hps. They were religious persons. Death found 
10 



74 

him, also, a christian. The calmness and dignity of his 
dying hours, the unwavering faith in God, the earnest 
and emphatic testimony to the truth of the Bible, the 
clear Hght of his full orbed intellect as it descended to 
the horizon of time, beaming with the radiance of reli- 
gious and philosophical truth, formed a sublime and beau- 
tifal period to his career on earth, and have left upon the 
public mind an unhiding image of the great and the good 
in man, not surpassed, in value, by his most splendid 
achievements. 

Of his mind, it may be said, that it was remarkable 
alike, for its powers of analysis, and of generalization. 
The most complicated subjects, of which ordinary minds 
could form no clear and satisfactory conception, under his 
inspection fell apart into their elements, " discreet and 
distinct," every element retaining its just proportion, 
and all equally simple and comprehensible ; and when he 
had satisfied his own intellectual gaze in upon the mys- 
teries of the subject, and had chosen his language, in 
which to present it to other minds, the whole confusion 
and complication were dispelled and gone. 

Take, for instance, the doctrine of State sovereignty, 
and State subordination to our United States government, 
under the Constitution. There was a time, when that 
subject was so difficult, that the nation was greatly divided 
upon it, and when it seemed, that the NuUifiers had a fair 
prospect of prevailing, under the plausible notion, that 
there was impliedly reserved to the States by the Consti- 
tution, a right to nullify laws which were unconstitutional, 
and that inasmuch as the States, as well as the United 
States, were sovereign, they were to be considered parties 
to the Constitution, as a compact, between independent 



iO 



bodies ; and that being so, each State was as much en- 
titled to the privilege of deciding what was constitutional 
and what was unconstitutional, as was the United States ; 
and this, it was claimed, was the true construction of that 
instrument. Many other considerations were thrown in, 
to make the question complex and mysterious. The 
whole subject came to be regarded as extremely deep, 
and difficult, if not quite unfathomable. Mr. Webster 
brought to bear upon it, first, the power of his analysis, 
and afterwards, the power of his language, to explain to 
others what he so clearly comprehended himself; and the 
subject at once lost all its difficulty, and the only wonder 
in the mind of the reader of the debate between Hayne 
and Webster^ is, that there should ever have been any 
question about it. Indeed, it is not unfrequently said, 
that Mr. Webster has had quite too much credit for that ef- 
fort, as the subject was so plain that it argued itself, and 
any other man could have done the same thing. Few 
subjects have been submitted to his analysis, and been 
expounded by his language, which were ever after com- 
plicated in any such sense, as that they could not be 
well understood. It is thus that he has made plain the 
great principles of our Constitution, and cut deep the 
channels in which our government is to run, we hope 
forever. 

The adoption of the Constitution of the United States 
by our forefathers, left a most important duty to be per- 
formed by the next generation. That fundamental law 
was to be construed and defended in its true meaning. 
This last duty is just as essential as the original adoption 
of the instrument. Though not born to make the Con- 
stitution, Mr. Webster has lived in the period of time. 



70 



when that Constitution was to receive its construction ; 
and to that construction he has contributed, not by 
official power, but by the unassisted force of his own rea- 
son, and argument, and eloquence. 

The greatest constitutional contests, which have estab- 
lished the meaning of that instrument on points of tran- 
scendant importance, were fought by him, when in a mi- 
nority. In the great debate on Foote's Resolution, his 
contest was against fearful odds. But he carried convic- 
tion to the hearts and minds of Gen. Jackson and the 
People, and established his own opinions, as the law of the 
land. 

The magnitude of the service rendered in expounding 
truly the Constitution, and defending it against perver- 
sion, cannot well be over estimated. This is the funda- 
mental law. Statutes are made and unmade, with the 
rising and falling of this or that party, and change with 
the ceaseless fluctations of Congress. But the Constitu- 
tion abides, and is to afiect the destiny of the nation while 
it exists. For this great service Mr. Webster seems to 
have been raised up. With Marshall on the Bench, and 
Webster at the Bar and in the Senate, our Constitution 
has received its construction and direction for ages. Lesser 
minds may now administer it with comparative safety. 
Webster, having discovered the great land-marks along 
the Constitutional coast, has taught them to future navi- 
gators ; and wherever there are hidden rocks and shoals, 
he has raised high and brilliant beacon-lights that avlII 
shine forever. But it may be doubted whether even 
Webster could have satisfactorily performed this work 
for his country, without a Calhoun and a Hayne. How 
much more effectually have the doctrines of Secession and 



77 



Nullification been overthrown, than they could ever have 
been, if they had been advocated by men of less ability? 
Who, in after times, will attempt to support a doctrine, 
which Calhoun could not maintain ? Webster and Cal- 
houn were born for that service, and thoroughly have they 
performed it. 

But Mr. Webster saw, that, to render our government 
permanent, beside a just construction of its powers, it 
wanted a careful cultivation in the minds of the people, 
of regard and reverence for our institutions ; a pride in 
our common national renown ; a patriotic admiration and 
love of our glorious Union, as well as a spirit of concilia- 
tion and harmony. It was with this view, that he poured 
forth among his fellow citizens, his fervid thoughts, ever 
exalting the " liberty and union " of our own happy land, 
with a love of country, which knew no bounds but the 
entire Union, which never became weary, nor cold, nor 
impatient, and which warmly cherished a spirit of friend- 
ship between opposing sections of the Union. Here was 
no pretence ; no hollow hearted professions to catch the 
popular favor. It was a genuine passion which could not 
be repressed, and which over-rode all other considerations. 
He spoke the sentiments of his heart on all matters of 
public moment, cut where they might. He had thought 
for the age and country in which he lived too long, to fear 
to give the expression of his true sentiments. He claimed 
this immunity for himself No man, therefore, was ever 
more frank and fearless in the utterance of his undisguised 
sentiments, than he. 

But it has been said that he was ambitious ; and it has 
been inferred that because he was ambitious, he was, there- 
fore, not honest in the measures he advocated. It is also 



78 



said that it was an unpardonable weakness in him, to de- 
sire the Presidency, as it could not add to his fame. It 
seems to be considered criminal in one so great to aspire 
to office. Such aspirations are to be left to meaner per- 
sons, who have small qualifications, and no principle. I 
must beg leave to differ from the tenor of these opinions 
on the general subject of ambition. God has planted in 
man all the passions of the human heart, and among them, 
ambition ; and none is more indispensable to his useful- 
ness than this. What man ever accomplished anything 
valuable without it ? All created intelligences have it. 
The angels are not destitute of it. If they were, they 
would|be too inanimate to fulfil their heavenly destiny. 

Ambition for high office is tolerated by such political 
censors, without complaint, in inferior men, whose chief 
qualification is their ambition. But the instant it is sus- 
pected that a man of high qualifications seeks a corres- 
ponding office, he is condemned as ambitious, and all 
his acts are regarded with distrust and disparagement. 
Undoubtedly, ambition, like all the other passions, may 
be indulged to excess. It is a powerful passion, and needs 
to be under the control and guidance of principle. 

I have always supposed that Mr. Webster had in his 
heart a lofty and well sustained ambition ; not like that 
of the majority of men, because his tastes and his ideas 
were different from theirs ; not vulgar, not captivated with 
show or flattery, but grand and peculiar, suited to his na- 
ture. I have never doubted, that his first ambition was to 
excel all competitors in merit. Hence, he added to the 
greatness of his natural endowments, great industry and 
high cultivation. I have never believed that his ambition 
was for the glitter, and show, and honor of office. That 



79 

was not the object he sought ; and yet he desked office. 
His first, his chief ambition, was to build up for himself 
great attainments, great services, a great character, and 
as a consequence, great f ime. But he never coveted 
anything not founded on adequate merit. He sought no 
promotion, till he had earned it, nor until he was thor- 
oughly prepared for the discharge of the duties it devolved 
upon him, and then he did desire it. And he was right. 
He could not make his great powers useful to the world, 
without position, nor could he cultivate those powers to 
their highest perfection without opportunity. 

There were those who thought they saw an unjustifia- 
ble ambition in Mr. Webster, even in his taking the office 
of Secretary of State, in 1841, and regretted that he had 
not declined any Cabinet appointment, remaining in the 
Senate. If he had followed such suggestions, how much of 
high service the country would have lost, and how mighty 
an accession to his own fame would have been rejected. 
Besides, his own powers would have lacked their full de- 
velopment, which he valued more than riches or honors. 
But when he had satisfied himself, and had shown the 
world of what he was capable, in the department of State, 
and had stopped the mouths of those who had said he 
lacked the power of originating great measures, he still 
was not satisfied. He desired the Presidency. There 
are those who cannot see why Daniel Webster, who tow- 
ered so far above the incumbents of that office and above 
his competitors, should desire the Presidency. But he 
was unquestionably right in supposing that the highest 
office in the gift of the American people would crown his 
fame as a public character. If he became no greater by the 
exercise of his powers in the executive office, his position 



80 



would have been more elevated in the eyes of the world. 
It would have been an aeknoAvledgment from his country, 
which he had ever loved and served, before the nations of 
the earth, that his vast fame was well deserved. It would 
have made his character and life, not greater, but more 
conspicuous and elevated in the sight of mankind. " Pyr- 
amids are pyramids in vales," but they look down on 
the surrounding world still more imposing from an emi- 
nence. The most stupendous structures of the earth, owe 
much to the sites upon which they stand. 

Undoubtedly Mr. Webster was ambitious to be Presi- 
dent. He thought he bad earned that distinction by his 
services. He thought the Presidency an office worthy of 
his ambition. He thought, he could accomplish some- 
thing in that position honorable to the nation ; and add 
something to the stability of the American Union. 

But he never sought promotion by the intrigues and 
arts usual with candidates for that position. He dis- 
paraged no man, and suffered no slander against his rivals 
which he could prevent. " I thank God," said he, " that 
if I am gifted with little of the spirit, which is able to 
raise mortals to the skies, I have yet none, as I trust, 
of that other spirit, which would drag angels down." 

His ambition for the Presidency was secondary to his 
desire for true excellence. Much as he would have been 
pleased with the first office in the gift of the American 
people, he would never have purchased it, by a sacrifice 
of any portion of his well earned fame. " The past, at 
least," he intended to keep "secure." 

But what exalts him above competition, and adds lustre 
to all his achievements, is that he has made himself the 
classical character of our country, and, may I not say, of 



81 



our age; — classic as an orator, as an author, as a states- 
man, as a patriot, as a man. His style of (haught, of ex- 
pression, and of action, had ever a classic grace which 
hallowed whit h3 said, and whit he did, ;uid made it !ifc 
for perpetual remembrance. His taste was not canfined 
to his composition and oratory. His farm bore evidence 
of his cLis-iic taste on all its spacious fields. Every room 
of his residence was made interesting and delightful, wiih 
the same all-pervading sense of the beautiful and appro- 
priate. His thoughts would be read, for their own iiitiin- 
sic v.duc and beauty, in whatever style they might be 
couched ; and his style of oratory and writing would at- 
tract the attention of mankind and be read, if the topics 
of thought were as remote from any practical use tc us, 
as are the subjects of the eloquence of Demosthenes and 
of Cicero. Men will never cease to be charmed with the 
classic beauties of these two ancient orators. Never will 
th^y want readers, while a literary taste is culuvated 
among men. They have already survived the middle ages; 
they have survived the interest in the topics of which they 
spoke ; they have survived the memories of all contem- 
porary orators; they have long survived the governments 
under which they flourished, and all the institutions of 
their time. There were not wanting numerous orators in 
ancient Greece, — men of eminence and renown, whose 
productions were well regarded in their day. But Demos- 
thenes comes down to us through the dark night of bar- 
barism, alone. Rome had many famous orators, before 
and after Cicero, and in his time, — men of high integrity 
and of distinguished eloquence, but Cicero alone, of the 
Roman orators, stands on the shelves of modern libraries. 

Bah of these ancient classic orators, have delighted thj 
11 



82 



scholars, and contributed to the great work of forming the 
taste, of every succeeding age since their time. In all 
antiquity, embracing many nations of people, and many 
centuries of time, but two truly classic orators have been 
produced. How enviable their destiny ! The light of 
their classic minds shines brightly yet, upon our pathway, 
dififasing a pleasant and useful influence wherever civiliza- 
tion and refinement are known. Who can estimate the 
vast aggregate of influence, which has already been shed 
abroad on the world throughout the twenty centuries past; 
and which wifl be rained on all future ages, and on all 
civilized nations, hereafter, by these two solitary classic 
orators of antiquity ? I might speak of them as the 
medium through which much of the history of those an- 
cient Republics has been brought down to cur times. I 
might speak of the elevation and dignity they have each 
conferred upon his age and country. Greece and Rome 
are judged from the specimens which have come down to 
us. The nation that produced a Demosthenes, or a Cicero, 
we involuntarily regard as learned, refined, eloquent, 
classic. The world never cares to reflact, that Greece has 
produced but one Demosthenes, and Rome but one Cicero, 
and that of all their other orators, none are read, and but 
few have been preserved, even in parchment, to our times. 
By Demosthenes, Greece is known and judged; and by 
Cicero, Rome is known and judged. 

Webster is our American classic. By him our country 
is hereafter to be known aud judged, in respect of those 
qualities and attainments which have found in him their 
model; and by him she is already known and judged, to 
no small extent, in other nations of the earth. He has 
taken his place by the side of DLmosthenes and Cicero, 



83 



and henceforth will shine as a fixed star of the first mag- 
nitude in the pure sky of classic literature. I hope I 
shall not be deemed disloyal to the supremacy of Greece 
and Rome, when I add, that in my opinion, his light is 
destined to out-shine that of the ancient orators. All . 
his eloquence is informed with the spirit of modern pat- 
triotism, and modern intelligence, and deals in truths that 
are of practical importance to all who read, and will con- 
tinue to be of practical importance, at least, so long as 
the "hberty and union," of the United States shall con- 
tinue. The ancient classics live now mainly in their 
literary excellence. We do not resort to them for in- 
struction in the true principles of Republican government, . 
or for just ideas of patriotism or of science. The works . 
of our American orator, combine the delights of taste and 
genius, with the enlightened principles of a civilization 
and a liberty, such as neither Greece, nor Rome, in her 
best days, ever saw ; with the golden treasures of useful 
knowledge; and with a fervor of patriotism, which, uncon- 
fined by sectional limits, 

" Spreads undivided, operates unspent," 

comprehending all that is American, and regarding with 
equal intensity the East, the West, the North, and the 
South, of thi:' great Republic. Here is a body of classic 
literature, the like of which can hardly be found in the 
productions of any man, in any country of modern, or of 
ancient times ; and the value of which to mankind cannot 
be measured by any of the usual conceptions of human 
greatness and human achievement. If we compare it, with 
the life and services of the men of the greatest achieve- 
ments, in military and political Hfe ; if we compare it with a 



84 



Wellington, — the comparison is vain. For, although the 
illustrious Duke, rendered high services to his country, 
awakened the highest enthusiasm, and secured perpetual 
admiration, among men, enriching the history of the 
world with his renown, both as a soldier and as a states- 
man, how little has he left to form the taste, and guide 
the genius, of the future generations of mankind ! [lis- 
tory will speak eloquently of his achievements, and pos- 
terity may read that history with admiration and delight; 
but where are his own great thoughts ? Alas, he has not 
clothed them in the language of classic literature, which, 
alone, could render them immortal. But the Duke will fare 
as well, in this respect, with posterity, as the great mass of 
orators, and statesmen, and writers. Time is severe in his 
criticisms, and condemns almost all the orators of the earth 
to a short lived existence. He allows them to live as 
statesmen, as soldiers, as men of renown, to adorn the 
brightest pages of their countries' history, but when they 
ask to live in their own proper words and thoughts, to be 
read as orators and writers, he frowns upon their presump- 
tion, and buries their speeches in the grave which receives 
their mortal bodies. Few and far between, are those 
angel visits of genias, to our earth, which touch with im- 
mortality human eloquence, and preserve it to after ages, 

" 'gainst the tooth of time, 
And razure of oblivion." 



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